A Touch of Frost
by scf3
Summary: COMPLETE. HGSS story which ignores the events of HBP and DH. Hermione returns to Hogwarts as a teacher and tries to establish a new relationship with Snape. As if that wasn't hard enough, Voldemort is still at large.
1. An unexpected owl

_Disclaimer: The characters and world described in this story were created by and are the property of the brilliant J. K. Rowling. They don't belong to me and I'm not making any money out of them._

_I wrote the first chapters (basically up to 12) after I had read OotP, so now of course it's completely AU. I stopped writing when HBP came out but when__ in 2007 I re-read what I had written I still rather liked it and so finally decided to post it anyway and to finish the story._

_Thanks to __linda798316 this story is now being translated into Chinese! I'm very honoured and thank her for all the work she puts into this. _

_Your comments are highly appreciated – enjoy the story!_

**An unexpected Owl**

It was the night before her last exam and Hermione was sitting at her desk, trying to concentrate on her notes on _Beowulf._ Yet somehow her mind kept wandering. So that would be it – probably the last exam of her life, after seven years at school and four at university. It would be strange not to be studying all the time anymore, strange no longer to feel the pressure as well as the exhilaration… Anyway, tomorrow she might be a free woman, but now she really should revise – she certainly didn't want to disappoint in her last exam! Not that anyone thought she would, but that was no reason to slacken in her revision. But it was hard to concentrate when nearly the entire hall of residence was already celebrating. Tomorrow was the last day of exams – lucky her to have to revise when nearly everyone else had already finished and were having the time of their lives.

At least her last exam wouldn't be that hard. Hermione was glad that she had already had all her magical exams. Although the Transfiguration exam had been rather tricky, she was almost certain that she had done well in all of them. She wasn't as panicky about her exam results anymore as she had been at Hogwarts.

Well, back to work. Hermione sighed, took a sip of tea and immersed herself in her notes again, trying to ignore the noises of celebrations and the muffled sound of piano music that had just erupted in the Common Room nearby. Suddenly there was a sharp rap at the window. Turning around, Hermione saw a haughty looking eagle owl pecking at the glass. When she opened the window the owl hopped onto her desk and put down a large envelope. Hermione was surprised. Usually only Harry and Ron sent her owls, and this was obviously neither Hedwig nor Pig. Looking at the envelope, she was even more confused to see that it came from the Ministry of Magic.

The owl was still sitting on top of her notes, hooting impatiently until Hermione started opening the envelope. It contained only one sheet of paper with a rather short message:

_Dear Ms Granger_

_Please meet me on the 7__th__ of June at 3 pm at the Ministry of Magic._

_Yours sincerely, _

_Elektra Anistaphala_

When the owl saw that she had read the letter, she gave Hermione an appreciating hoot and swept out of the window. Hermione went to close it again and then sat down on her bed, furrowing her brow and staring at the mysterious letter. She had no idea what it meant. Elektra Anistaphala… – that rang a bell. Hermione got up and went to the huge shelf full of books next to her desk. All her magical ones were bewitched to appear like normal books, and now she was looking for one called _Fools in Shakespeare_. When she had found it, she fetched her wand from its hiding place in one of her drawers and lifted the spell. The book immediately changed into a rather voluminous tome called _Charms of the Antique World_, written by Elektra Anistaphala. Hermione opened it to check if there was any information on the author, and found a short text stating that Elektra Anistaphala was the leading British expert on Charms from ancient Greece and Rome, also interested in ancient Egypt and Assyria, who lived in Kent and liked to tend her garden.

Hermione was still puzzled. Why did this eminent expert want to talk to her? And why at the ministry? She hadn't done anything wrong, had she? She was racking her brain, but was pretty sure that she hadn't broken any magical law lately. It seemed as if Anistaphala was working for the ministry – perhaps she wanted to offer her a job? But Hermione hadn't applied for any, and she wasn't so vain to think that the ministry – especially Fudge – would be that desperate to get her as an employee.

Actually she hadn't decided yet what to do after university. For some time at Hogwarts she had thought about eventually becoming an Auror like Harry and Ron had planned to, but now that didn't seem that enticing anymore – perhaps she had had enough excitement at school to last her for several years. The four years at St Andrews had been positively quiet compared to her time at Hogwarts, and although she had been a member of the Order ever since she had left school, she was hardly involved with their work. Dumbledore had only called her five times during the last four years, and then only to meetings where they all just got general information about the present status. Hermione was wondering why. She was pretty certain that Dumbledore trust in her was absolute, so that couldn't be the reason. Perhaps he wanted to shield her, give her a rest after everything she had gone through at Hogwarts. Another reason might be that – as far as she could tell – Voldemort had been lying extremely low for the last years. There had only been a few mysterious killings and other incidents, and many people already made themselves believe that he had disappeared for good. Hermione, of course, knew better than that, but she had also been glad to live in the relative security of St Andrews and to have nothing to do with Voldemort for a change. She would never betray Dumbledore's trust, nor Harry's or Ron's, but sometimes getting back to join the fight again didn't seem appealing at all. Living in the muggle world, were nobody knew or cared about Voldemort, had made her feel strangely distanced from the continuing threat he presented.

She could ask Harry and Ron about Anistaphala. At least they would know which department she was working for. But the two were currently chasing a dark wizard in the Black Forest, and Hermione didn't have an owl…. She could borrow Stella's tomorrow. Or even better, she might ask the Kendricks – yes, they'd know Anistaphala, perhaps even know why she wanted to see her.

Resolved, Hermione finally put away the letter and sat down once again to study her notes. But she still felt uneasy and her concentration was definitely gone now. Well, the exam should be all right – and besides, she could always do some last minute cramming tomorrow morning, couldn't she?

...

It was the evening of the following day and Hermione was walking briskly towards the Kendricks' home, a large Victorian house in a quiet street full of old alley trees in the west of St Andrews. The next day she would go home to her parents and only return for the Graduation Ceremony.

Strange how fast the four years had passed. She vividly remembered the day in her seventh year when Prof. McGonagall had told them about Dumbledore's plan to start a kind of interdisciplinary course of studies at the University of St Andrews. Students in this course would continue their magical training under the supervision of the celebrated couple Aurelia and Winfred Kendrick, but would also have to take non-magical subjects and live like muggle-students in halls of residences. With this course Dumbledore hoped not only to broaden the students' range of studies, but also to improve the relations between wizards and muggles and the knowledge about muggles in the wizard world.

St Andrews had been chosen because it was rather small and far off, and because the Principal himself was married to a witch, his son a graduate from Hogwarts. He was as keen as Dumbledore on improving relations between wizards and muggles. Another important point was that the University in the small Scottish town at the North Sea was not only the oldest in Scotland, but also had a long history of wizards studying there, especially in the Middle and Early Modern Ages (AN). The town was still pervaded with magical undercurrents and shielded by powerful wards, not as strong as in Hogwarts, but still able to give some protection to every wizard living there. There was one spot just outside St. Salvator's quadrangle, where a student had been burned at the stake during the Reformation. An old superstition stated that it was unlucky for students to step on this spot, which was marked with an "PH", the student's initials. Most of the students actually avoided stepping on it routinely, but few really believed in it. Hermione knew better.

The magical subjects she was attending were all subsumed under the fictional cover-subject of Hebridology. The Principal had tried to think up a subject as obscure and boring sounding as possible, to avoid muggles applying for it. There still had been a few, but they had all been deflected, although sometimes an obliviating spell had to be performed. Hermione's fellow muggle students thought that she was studying a rather queer subject and hadn't inquired too much about it after she had given them an enthusiastic and lengthy speech on the intricacies of the early Medieval history of South Uist.

When McGonagall had told them about the new course, Hermione had been intrigued immediately. She had wanted to go to one of the magical universities, but this new offer sounded like an interesting challenge. After talking to McGonagall, her decision was made and she had applied for the course. Ron and Harry had been tempted as well, but had finally decided to apply for Auror training straight away and had – surprisingly – been accepted. "They need more Aurors to be prepared for Voldemort, so they had to lower their standards" was Ron's grim but realistic comment.

Hermione had been accepted for the course, as well as Parvati Patil's sister Padma from Ravenclaw and Matthew Cuthbert from Hufflepuff. There were also two students who had been in the year above Hermione's, Gareth Knightley from Ravenclaw and Stella St John from Slytherin.

When the five of them had met for the first time, they had all been a bit stiff and uncomfortable, the house divisions still deeply ingrained into everyone's minds. Especially Stella had had a hard time, both because the other four hadn't fully trusted her, and because she had countered their guarded behaviour with haughtiness and arrogance. But after the first months they had started to get closer and closer, sticking to house loyalties only for friendly banter.

At the beginning of her studies, Hermione had felt that a dream had come true – there were uncountable subjects and courses to choose from, and she had thoroughly used this freedom. Apart from her magical studies she had also attended courses in such different subjects as Latin, History, Chemistry, Mathematics and International Relations. During her first two years, Hermione had worked nearly as much as in her third year at Hogwarts. Finally however she had decided that university wasn't only about studying and had dropped several courses in her last two years, settling mostly for English as the muggle-part of her course. For the magical part she'd finally concentrated on Charms and Arithmancy.

In their daily life at the muggle hall of residences, the five students had to make do without magic, since that would have attracted too much attention. Most of the magical training took place in the Kendricks' house, and if they wanted to do something in their own rooms, they first had to shield them heavily.

Of the five students, two were muggle-born, and two had at least one muggle-parent or grandparent. So they were more or less familiar with living in the muggle world. Only Stella came from an old pure-blood-family. She had received special intensive training in muggle matters before the beginning of her studies, but in everyday life there had still been many aspects which had puzzled her. Thinking that everyone, even an arrogant Slytherin, deserved a chance, Hermione had offered to answer her questions. At first Stella had been rather cold, but after getting into several embarrassing situations due to her ignorance, she had asked Hermione for advice more and more often, and finally a real friendship had developed.

Tonight their teachers Aurelia and Winfred Kendrick had invited them for an end-of-term and farewell celebration, and Hermione had decided to show up a bit earlier to be able to ask them about Elektra Anistaphala.

When she rang the bell, she was immediately greeted by a loud "Meauw!" Since animals were not permitted in the halls of residence, she had left Crookshanks with the Kendricks – at first she had tried to keep him in the hall hidden under an invisibility spell, but after several students had reported rather strange occurrences Hermione finally had had to admit defeat and had given him away.

When Winfred opened the door Crookshanks shot out immediately and started swishing around her legs, purring loudly. Hermione bent to pick him up, which increased his purring considerably, and followed Winfred into the old house. He looked a bit puzzled, but caught himself quickly.

"I know I'm early," Hermione started, "but I have to ask you and Aurelia something."

"All right then," Winfred replied, leading her into the living room were Aurelia was busy laying the table. "Aurelia, do you have a minute? Hermione has a question for us."

Looking intrigued, both settled down on a sofa opposite Hermione. They were a charming couple: Aurelia tall and erect, with short grey hair and immaculately dressed, and Winfred a bit shorter than his wife, always wearing worn out tweed trousers and jackets, his thick white hair sticking out from his head.

"I'm sorry to bother you when you're busy preparing – but I received a letter from Elektra Anistaphala last night and was wondering if by any chance you knew her?"

Understanding dawned on both their faces. "Ah, so she did write to you?" Aurelia said.

"Yes, she did, but I don't know why – so you know something about the letter, don't you?"

Winfred cleared his throat. "Well, we know a bit, but I'm afraid we aren't allowed to tell you much."

Hermione raised an eyebrow which made Aurelia give a short glance to her husband. Turning towards Hermione, she said: "What we can tell you is that Elektra asked us what we thought about you – about your intellectual and magical abilities as well as your personality. Of course we could do nothing but praise you in the highest terms."

Feeling slightly embarrassed, Hermione smiled at the two of them. "Thanks. But why is she interested in me?"

Before answering, Winfred looked at his wife, and when she nodded he said:

"Elektra works for the ministry – I don't know in which department, since it is all rather secret but given her background it certainly has to do with charms. She has some kind of new project and was thinking of asking you to work for her. That's all she told us, and she said that even that is top secret. Sorry, that's all we know."

Hermione's mind was whirling. She didn't know much more than before, but it definitely sounded interesting. "Do you know her well?" She asked after a few moments. "What kind of woman is she?"

Winfred remained quiet for a few moments, then he continued. "We went to Hogwarts together, so I know her rather well, although she was in Gryffindor while I was in Hufflepuff. Elektra has a brilliant mind, she's definitely the leading British expert in antique Charms. She can be fierce, but she's loyal to her friends. And brave, a true Gryffindor. She has been a member of the order nearly from the beginning and her husband Thomas was killed by Voldemort himself over 20 years ago.

Aurelia had stayed silent, all the while looking at her husband intently. Noticing this, Hermione now addressed her. "What do you think about her?"

The elder woman hesitated for a few seconds and then admitted: "I never liked her much, I have to admit. She used to be very competitive and a bit arrogant. Not a person to get along with easily. But she is certainly brilliant in her field, and was a great fighter against Voldemort – probably still is."

Winfred gave his wife a teasing smile. "Aurelia was always a bit envious of Elektra – the two of them were tied for the top student in our year."

Aurelia shot him an affronted glance. "I certainly wasn't envious of Elektra! But" turning to Hermione, "he had a crush on her, all throughout our fifth and sixth year."

Winfred cleared his throat. "Ahm, well, you see Hermione, we're both somewhat biased. Perhaps you'd better just get to know her yourself."

"I think I will, thanks a lot though. Now, can I give you a hand?"

They got up and went on laying the table, Hermione still wondering what would await her at the ministry in two weeks time.

...

_AN: Cf. Sir Walter Scott, _The Lay of the Last Minstrel_._


	2. At the ministry

**At the Ministry**

On the 7th of June at seven minutes to 3 pm Hermione entered the entrance hall of the Ministry of Magic. The last time she'd been at the ministry Sirius had died, which didn't really help her to relax. She had planned to say hello to Mr. Weasley, but since she'd come to the ministry by muggle-bus, and since the bus had stuck in a traffic jam for half an hour, she now didn't have the time. Instead Hermione went straight to the information desk, gave the witch sitting there her name and, after getting the directions to Elektra Anistaphala's office, was on her way through the labyrinthine corridors of the ministry.

Anistaphala's office was in a kind of backwater-area of the charms department. When she arrived there, Hermione mentally took a deep breath, knocked and entered, feeling rather excited. The office was spacious and bright, with several pots of flowers and pictures of ancient ruins and old manuscripts at the walls.

Opposite to the door, behind a large desk covered with piles of paper, sat an elderly woman whom Hermione took to be Elektra Anistaphala. Her face was finely cut, her big dark eyes showed intelligence and temperament, and waves of still dark hair fell onto her shoulders. Hermione could understand that Winfred had felt drawn to her, she still was a very attractive woman.

"Ms. Granger, I presume?" The elder woman got up and came towards Hermione, offering her her hand and a friendly, reassuring smile. "Please sit down. Would you like something to drink?"

Hermione declined and had a quick look around while Elektra Anistaphala returned to her chair. One of the pictures on the walls showed a younger Anistaphala together with a friendly looking man, both smiling happily and waving. Her murdered husband probably. Hermione felt uncomfortable watching the moving figures and quickly looked back to the woman at the other side of the desk. She was scrutinising her intently and Hermione felt caught, as if she had been prying into something personal.

"Aurelia and Winfred Kendrick asked me to give their greetings to you", she said, glad that she had something to break the silence.

Elektra Anistaphala gave her a slight nod. "Oh yes. They're a lovely couple, aren't they? And they spoke very highly of you…" Again she looked at her searchingly, which made Hermione feel rather uncomfortable. But then the older woman smiled again and Hermione felt the tension lessening.

"I have to apologize", Anistaphala began. "You'll be wondering what on earth you're doing here, and why I didn't give you more information."

Hermione nodded. Finally she'd get some answers.

"First I have to impress on you that everything I'm going to tell you now is absolutely confidential. That's why I didn't give you more information beforehand. Whatever your decision may be, you must never repeat to anyone what I am going to tell you now."

Hermione felt goose flesh build up at her neck, but looked at Anistaphala earnestly and nodded again. "I promise you that I won't tell anything."

Anistaphala smiled in reply. "I know that I can trust you. Naturally I gathered some information about you, and your past experiences as well as your academic achievements and the resumes given by your teachers were all very impressive. That's the reason why you're here today." Anistaphala made a short pause, still looking at Hermione intently. "But let me explain from the beginning. Did you ever hear of the library storage vaults at Hogwarts?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes. There's a passage in _Hogwarts, A History _where it says that there are millions of books stored in huge halls below the Hogwarts grounds." Those vaults had always been Hermione's idea of heaven, and all throughout her schooldays she had wanted to see them, but never had had the chance.

Anistaphala nodded. "That's true. Hogwarts has one of the largest magical libraries in the world, and only those books which are needed regularly are in the actual library. The event which concerns us now occurred about two months ago when Prof. Flitwick experimented with a new charm, which went wrong."

"He didn't harm himself, did he?", Hermione asked worryingly.

"Nothing that couldn't be mended. There were other effects, none of them harmful, luckily. One of them was that in one of the library storage halls a whole wall of books fell down, the stone wall behind them suddenly revealing a door which till then had been invisible. It took Dumbledore and his colleagues three weeks to break the spells keeping it locked, and when they finally managed to open it, they found another, smaller vault stuffed with books."

Anistaphala made a dramatic pause, apparently relishing Hermione's excitement.

"The books in this secret vault are all very old and it seems that the door has been locked ever since the late Middle Ages. There are nearly two thousand of them, most of them written in Latin, Old and Middle English, some in Greek. Since great pains were taken to hide them, we think they might contain some very powerful magic, perhaps even some charms that have been lost ever since."

Hermione started to get an idea of what Anistaphala might want her to do, but decided to wait till she'd tell her.

"Of course Dumbledore and his colleagues started to browse through them immediately, but with their other duties they don't have the time needed. Dumbledore contacted me, to ask for help, and I informed the Minister, but" she made a pause and gave Hermione a telling look "he unfortunately does not agree with Dumbledore and me on the possible importance of the books and therefore declines to give funding for their examination. And still, something should be done about them. They might only be interesting for antiquarians like me, but with Voldemort gathering strength again, we shouldn't miss the chance of perhaps finding something which might help us in the fight against him. So that's were you come in."

Hermione felt her pulse quickening. "You want me to analyse these books."

Anistaphala nodded. "Yes. I have a small ministry budget of my own, and Fudge grudgingly agreed that I could use it to fund one person for this task. I know that you're quite brilliant in charms, and I take it you know Old and Middle English, as well as Latin?"

"I do. But I have to warn you that my Latin is not very good, and I don't speak Greek at all."

"Don't worry, some of the teachers do, and the amount of books in Greek seems to be limited. What we want you to do is to browse through the books and find out what each one is about, which kind of charms it contains, if some of these are new or especially powerful and such things. You'd have to send me a detailed report every month, listing the books and their content. So what do you think? There's a chance that it'll be terribly boring and trying work, but I for myself would be happy to do it…"

Hermione's head was swirling. Anistaphala was certainly right, it would be very hard work, probably boring most of the time, and she wasn't that keen on Medieval Latin…. But at least some of these books promised to be interesting, they might even help them in their fight against Voldemort – she'd really contribute something to their fight. And she'd be at Hogwarts again… Come to think of it, there wasn't much to decide. "I'd love to do it. But how am I to explain my staying at Hogwarts?"

"Officially you'd be there for doing research and for training as a teacher. That should be enough to satisfy curious enquiries. However, it'd also mean that you'd have to give a few lessons… I hope you're still accepting?"

Hermione felt a strange mixture of fear and elation. She'd often thought about eventually becoming a teacher at Hogwarts, but she hadn't expected that it'd be so soon. Still, it was a challenge, and she'd never quailed before one. "What subjects would I have to teach?"

"Whatever you like. It's completely up to you, and to the other teachers. Since you're also officially doing research you wouldn't have to take on too many lessons. Do you still want to do it?"

Hermione didn't hesitate. "Yes, I do. When will I start?"

"August would be great, then you'd have a few weeks to get started with the work before the beginning of school. Your salary will be that of a teacher in training. At the moment the project is limited to one year, after that, we and you will see if we want to go on with it. Dumbledore will get into contact with you to tell you all you need to know. Do you have any more questions?"

Hermione felt slightly run over and could only shake her head.

"Very well. I'm very glad you accepted." Anistaphala looked rather pleased. "Unfortunately, from now on no direct communication between you and me will be possible. No one apart from your colleagues must know that the secret vault exists. Contact me only if it's absolutely necessary – and then it'd be better to do it via Dumbledore. I'll send an owl to pick up your report every month. Oh, only that you know, officially this meeting today took place because you experimented with a forbidden charm – it's all been arranged."

Suddenly a complex looking device on her desk emitted a fluting noise. Anistaphala got up and went to the door. "I'm very sorry but I have to get to a meeting with the Minister. It was a pleasure talking to you, and I'm sure you'll do the work admirably. Good bye."

Hermione felt a bit dumbfounded and could only thank Anistaphala again as she accompanied her to the next elevator. So now she not only had a well paid job – at least for one year – but would once more also play an active part in the fight against Voldemort. And she'd live at Hogwarts again! And teach! And see her old teachers – actually be their colleague… this was going to be interesting…


	3. Back again

**Back again**

Dumbledore sent Hermione a letter by owl the day after her visit to the ministry. In his message he expressed his joy about her taking on the position and asked her to come to Hogwarts on the first of August. Thus Hermione still had time enough to go on a sailing trip to Greece with the other students from her magical university course, a trip they'd been planning for over a year. It was meant as a kind of closure to their university time and although Hermione enjoyed herself very much, a feeling of wistful nostalgia was never far away. She was sorry that she couldn't tell her friends what she was going to do at Hogwarts, but she wouldn't betray Elektra Anistaphala's trust and they'd all bought her explanation that she wanted to do some research and train as a teacher along the way.

On the morning of the first of August, Hermione said goodbye to her parents with whom she had been staying for the last days and apparated to a spot outside the magical barrier of Hogwarts. She'd chosen a place near the lake from where she could follow her favourite track towards the castle. It was a perfect morning, already remarkably hot for Scotland, but after her time in Greece Hermione didn't mind the heat and simply enjoyed the sun and the great view she had of the lake and the castle.

She'd already sent her luggage the day before and thus carried only a small bag and Crookshanks who didn't like apparating at all. As soon as they had fully materialized, Crookshanks struggled to get free and she let him go. He knew the grounds and the castle inside out and would find her when he wanted to.

Hermione hadn't been at Hogwarts for nearly two years. She had planned to visit more often, but somehow had never found the time. When she now got her first glance of the castle, she felt a nearly overwhelming surge of happiness. It was good to be back – in a way this was more her home than the house of her parents had ever been.

The grounds and the castle certainly hadn't changed much. But it'd be different as soon as she was inside. Hermione had to admit that she felt an odd mixture of worry and elation when she thought about meeting her former teachers. It would be strange to be something like a colleague now. She was definitely glad that Lupin was teaching again, with him around she'd feel much easier. They'd probably want her to address them by their Christian names…that would really be strange…well, she'd get accustomed to it, after all she'd always got along well with the teachers…nearly all of them, anyway…she probably wouldn't see Trelawney that often, would she?…so the only teacher to worry about was Snape…– or Severus from now on? Hermione grinned. That'd really be strange!…apart from Trelawney he was the only teacher who hadn't genuinely liked her…but she wasn't his student any longer, she was a grown up woman now, a fellow–member of the Order, someone who had earned respect, and she certainly wouldn't let him make her feel bad again!

Hermione didn't meet anyone on her walk to the castle. Actually she didn't know if the teachers were there at all – did they stay at Hogwarts during the summer? Not for the first time she realized that she hardly knew her teachers. But that would soon change.

The large castle doors were wide open and Hermione stepped from the dazzling sunlight into the cool dimness of the entrance hall. In his letter Dumbledore had asked her to come and see him when she arrived, so she only threw a swift look around and then directed her steps towards his office. When she arrived there, the door to the spiralling staircase opened without her saying anything, and while she was being propelled upwards, she could already hear Dumbledore's booming "Come up, come up!"

When she arrived in the Headmaster's office, she found him standing right in front of her, his hands outstretched and his eyes twinkling in genuine pleasure. "Splendid to have you here, please sit down." He pointed to a large chair and went to another one opposite of it. "I hope you had a pleasant journey? Would you like a lemon drop?"

As always, Hermione felt slightly overwhelmed by the headmaster, but replied that yes, the journey had been without any difficulties, and no, she'd have to decline his offer of a lemon drop.

"Well, that's more for me", he said, his blue eyes sparkling. "I have to tell you once again that I'm delighted you took the job. I'm convinced that you're more than up to it. We're going to show you the vault after lunch and then you'll get all the information you need. Now, do you have any questions?"

Hermione shook her head. "I suppose nothing that can't wait till then."

"Splendid." Dumbledore rose and went towards the staircase. "Then I'll show you your rooms now."

They left the office and walked through several corridors and over some stairs until Dumbledore finally stopped in front of a door not far away from Gryffindor Tower.

Tapping the door with his wand, Dumbledore opened it. "I hope you like it. Minerva and Remus tried to do their best, but if there's anything missing or anything you don't like, please don't hesitate to tell me."

The door swung open and revealed a spacious and bright living room with large windows looking out to the lake. Three very comfortable looking chairs and a small table were standing close to the fireplace and there was also a large desk as well as numerous empty book shelves.

"Professor, this is marvellous!" Hermione stepped into the room and discovered two doors leading to an equally bright sleeping room with a comfortable looking bed and a nice bathroom with a large bathtub as well as a shower.

"It's Albus, dear," Dumbledore's mouth twitched in a smile. "I'm glad you like it. As you can see, your luggage is already here – if you need anything, just tell me or call one of the house elves. Dobby has been quite over the moon since he heard that you're going to live here again."

"Thanks, I will."

"Very well. I'll leave you now, but we're having lunch at 1 o'clock. Are you coming?"

"I am – thanks again…Albus."

"You're welcome, Hermione." He went towards the door. "And welcome back once again."

When Dumbledore had left, Hermione opened the windows and enjoyed the marvellous view of the lake and the forbidden forest. Then she wandered around her rooms for several minutes, examining every detail of them before starting to unpack and arrange her things into cupboards and on shelves.

Time was flying, and Hermione suddenly realized that it was already a quarter to one. She was looking forward to meeting the other teachers – or at least most of them – but didn't really know if they expected her to dress up in the sort of gowns they were usually wearing. She'd brought her St Andrews graduation gown, which should do the trick, but perhaps it would be enough if she wore it when school started again? After all it was quite warm at the moment… Hermione decided that she'd ask Lupin about it and for the moment would stick to the light beige cotton trousers and the burgundy T–Shirt she was already wearing.

It took her a few minutes to get to the dining hall where she found Dumbledore, Hagrid, Lupin, McGonagall, Snape, Sprout and Flitwick already gathered around a table. Apart from Snape all of them were wore lighter and less formal clothes than during the semester. As soon as they spotted her, she was greeted enthusiastically and Lupin pointed to a chair between himself and Hagrid. At first Hermione felt a bit inhibited, but that soon lessened when they all started eating and talking animatedly. When she left the table she was on first–name–basis with all the teachers – except for Snape, whose only acknowledgment of her had been a curt nod and some rather haughty glances in her direction. As she'd expected, his presence made her a bit uncomfortable, but Hermione hoped that in the course of time she'd come to terms with this. The friendliness of the other teachers, however, was more than compensatory for his coldness.

After lunch, Lupin, Snape, McGonagall and Dumbledore took Hermione through several long and heavily warded corridors down underground to the library vaults, a series of huge halls containing more books than Hermione had ever seen in her whole life. It would have been paradise had the dimly lit and rather cool stone halls been a bit more cheerful. After leading them through several halls, Dumbledore finally stopped in front of a book covered wall and cast a spell Hermione didn't recognize. Then he nodded towards McGonagall and she performed the same spell. When she had ended, the shelves vanished and revealed a small opening in the wall. Stepping through, Dumbledore made a gesture with his hands and the secret vault – small in comparison with the halls they had passed through, but still quite impressive – was lit by brilliant light. In the middle of the room stood a table with a few chairs and Dumbledore motioned them to sit down.

"Well Hermione, this is the mysterious vault. We've searched it diligently, but there is nothing in it apart from these books – and there is also no further hidden chamber, at least as far as we could determine. So the reason it was hidden for so long must indeed be the books. Remus, perhaps you'd like to tell Hermione what we've done so far?"

Lupin cleared his throat. "We've had a first look at the books and organized them according to the language they are written in – however, quite a lot of them are written in two or even more languages, so that wasn't that easy. Within this division, we tried to organize them according to the subjects they're on – which also isn't easy because nearly all of them treat a huge variety of subjects. And we also put those which on a cursory view seemed to be most interesting in first place. But I have to admit that it's still a rather amateurish system." There was something like a snort from Snape's direction, but Lupin didn't react to it. "Anyway, we've also started looking through some of the books in detail – but we're really glad you're here since we'll all be rather busy when school starts again." He pointed towards a shelf which was empty except for a few books. "That's the shelf where we put the books we've looked through. They are marked with a tracking spell so we can find them anytime." He pointed to another shelf which was standing close to the entrance. "These are the books completely written in Greek – Minerva and Severus are working on them." He turned towards several shelves at the back of the room. "These are the ones entirely or partly written in Old English, and the shelf on the right are those in Middle English. Albus has looked through some of them, but they're all yours now. Filius and I have been dealing with the Latin ones – they're on the shelves to our left – but I have to admit that my Latin isn't that good…"

Once again there was a derogatory snort from Snape's direction, and without thinking Hermione turned towards him and caught his black eyes, fixing them in a gaze she wasn't willing to break first. His face betrayed nothing, but after a few moments in which their eyes were locked it was he who looked away first.

"Well Hermione," she turned at Dumbledore's address, still rather angry with Snape. "That's basically all there is to tell or show concerning this vault. Remus will give you the forms to fill out for each book, and he'll also tell you how to open the secret door. For security reasons there are always two of us needed to get into it. He'll also show you how you can secure the books when you're taking them to your room – we certainly don't expect you to read them down here. So if you want you can take some with you now."

"I certainly will". Hermione got up and went to look at the books written in Old English. After some consideration she took three leather bound tomes, and when all the other teachers had finished getting new books as well, Dumbledore and McGonagall sealed the secret room again.

After leaving the vaults Hermione followed Lupin to his rooms. She'd been there before, but was once again fascinated by the collection of strange and exotic looking things it contained. He told her how to secure the books in her own rooms and taught her the spell which would give her access to the vault. He also gave her a bundle of parchment which turned out to be the forms and some normal parchment Anistaphala had provided them with to record their findings. It was first class quality and Hermione stroked it lovingly, itching to fill the smooth surface with writing.

"Only the best for the ministry," Lupin said with an ironic smile. "Well, how are you? And I mean this as a real question."

Hermione had always liked Lupin and felt more relaxed in his presence than when she had been with the other teachers – he really was a friend. "I'm fine, thanks. Oh, and thank you for preparing my rooms for me, they're great!"

Lupin looked pleased. "I'm glad that you like them, but actually Minerva chose most of the furniture. It's really great to have you here, and if you ever have any problems or questions, don't hesitate to ask me."

Hermione smiled. "Thank you, Remus. I'm also quite happy to be back again – I really missed the old place. It only feels a bit strange to suddenly be something like a colleague to Professor McGonagall and the rest of them. But I'm sure that's only a question of time."

Lupin nodded encouragingly. "I felt rather similar when I first started working here – don't forget, Dumbledore and McGonagall had been my teachers as well. But you'll grow accustomed to it soon enough. And you really shouldn't worry, they all like and respect you."

"Apart from Snape and Trelawney", Hermione put in sarcastically.

"Well, yes, I guess that's right. But I don't think that Sybil doesn't like you, she's only easily offended. And you will see her very rarely. Getting along with Severus won't be easy, though – I don't think that his negative feelings for Harry have lessened and unfortunately you're wound up in them. I'm sure he'll eventually come to respect you for your intellectual merits and until then just try to ignore him. I guess it's hard for him as well to adjust to the fact that you're no longer a student he can trample on." He smiled at her mischievously.

"He isn't exactly treating you very friendly…" Hermione stated tentatively.

Lupin gave her a wry smile. "You mean his derogatory snorts in the vault? Yes, that's true. Somehow he just can't leave it. But I think, or let's say I hope, it's less an affront against myself than a mixture of envy – after all I have the post he's wanted for ages – and hatred for James and Sirius. And to be frank, they really treated him cruelly sometimes, and I didn't do anything against it, although I knew that it was wrong, so in a way I perhaps accept his behaviour as a kind of late punishment…"

Hermione felt touched by Lupin's honesty. What he said brought back what Harry had once told her about the scenes from Snape's past he'd seen in the Pensieve. But even a bad childhood didn't excuse the way Snape had treated them while they had been his students – and not only them, but basically all students apart from his own Slytherins.

"You're remarkably forgiving Remus. But you're right, he can't really harm me now and I'll try to ignore him if he's treating me badly. When you think about it, and forget for a moment how mean he can be, one can almost pity him. I mean what kind of life does he have?"

Lupin nodded his head. "In a way you're right and I certainly wouldn't want to switch places with him, even if that meant that I wouldn't be a werewolf any longer. And whatever he's done in the past and however he treats other people, he nevertheless has some qualities. And he's still risking his life for the Order."

"Is he still working as a spy?" Hermione was intrigued. She knew that Snape had served the Order as a spy against Voldemort, but didn't know any details.

"Not often nowadays. The problem is that Voldemort doesn't really trust him anymore, so he isn't called that often and when he is he doesn't get much useful information. And if he does it's always very hard to decide how to use it, after all we don't want to blow his cover. Sometimes Voldemort injures him badly – actually we're all a bit surprised that he hasn't killed Severus yet. It is as if he's playing cat and mouse with him."

Hermione was genuinely shocked. "That's terrible! Why doesn't Snape just stop going to him?"

"Albus told him that it's too dangerous, but he insists on doing it. And to be honest we can't afford to lose the insight he's still getting. So you see, there's more to him than just the terrible teacher you know."

"I'm sure he'd be surprised that you told me so." Hermione gave Lupin a wry smile. "But thanks for telling. I'll try to be nice to him."

When she left Lupin her mind was swirling with new thoughts. During the last years Hermione had felt rather comfortable with the feelings of resentment, fear and hurt emotions she'd associated with Snape ever since her first year. She still thought them justified, but there was more than black and white, and in her new position as a colleague and fellow-member of the Order she would have to establish a different relationship with him.

At dinner this evening Hermione greeted not only her favourite ex–teachers enthusiastically, but also gave Snape a large smile – probably the first she had given him since her initial Potions lesson. Hermione had come to the conclusion that if he wouldn't change, perhaps it was her turn to do so. At least it was worth a try. While she was trying to act normal and friendly towards him, she suddenly realized how her fear and antagonism against him had influenced even the slightest parts of her behaviour. It wasn't easy to overcome habits which she had followed more then half her life, such as ignoring him intentionally or if that didn't work giving him looks which radiated anger, defiance or simply indifference.

While Hermione struggled not to fall back into her unconscious defence system again, Snape seemed at a loss what to make of her new unaffected friendliness. She tried to include him in the conversation several times, but only got rather curt answers. Well, Rome wasn't built in a day. During the meal she threw quick glances to him from time to time and was rewarded by what might be interpreted as a rather puzzled look. Lupin had at first risen an eyebrow but when they left the table he gave her an appreciating smile and whispered mischievously "nice try – I bet old Snape is wondering what you're up to."

* * *

_Thanks a lot for your comments, they are highly appreciated!_


	4. Settling in

**Settling in**

Hermione soon fell into a certain routine and spent the next two weeks in a rather similar fashion. In the mornings she would start working with one of the old tomes in her rooms, but after lunch she'd usually take her work outside. She had a favourite spot, a small clearing covered by grass and surrounded by beech trees right at the shore of the lake. This spot was quite far from the castle, so Hermione usually took her broom to get there. During the last years she'd discovered that she actually liked riding on a broom – at least as long as it didn't go too fast or upside down. She had to admit that while at school she'd always felt inhibited by Harry's and Ron's prowess and comments, but during the last years she'd developed into a fair flyer and now she enjoyed speeding through the warm summer air. She spent her afternoons lying on the grass in the shade of the trees, alternately concentrating on her work or just enjoying the gentle lapping of the waves and the dancing light filtering through the leaves above her. Usually she also took a swim before finally returning to the castle for dinner. She spent the evenings either working in her rooms or the library, or sitting in the teachers' common room where she was always sure to find someone to talk to. All in all it wasn't a specifically exciting but quite enjoyable life.

Every now and then Hermione also went to the heavily protected spell experimentation room. Elektra Anistaphala not only wanted her to write down detailed information about the contents of the books, but also to test the spells she had found to see if and how they worked. Most of the spells weren't especially powerful or dangerous, but Hermione had nevertheless twice asked Lupin to come with her to help in case something should go wrong – it luckily never did. She hadn't yet made any major discoveries, although it was fascinating to see that the spells she found in the books were very often forerunners of spells which were used in the present, albeit with small differences.

One evening about two weeks after her arrival a thunderstorm forced her home earlier than usual. After Hermione had dried herself up, she was still early for dinner, but decided to go nevertheless. When she arrived at the hall about 15 minutes before dinner officially started, Hagrid was the only one sitting there already. She joined him and they spent several minutes talking about the latest exotic and not entirely legal beast he was harbouring in his hut when Snape entered the hall and sat down as far away from them as possible. Hermione sighed internally. She'd kept on with her "be-nice-to-Snape"-campaign over the last weeks but the results hadn't been that encouraging. True, Snape didn't pick on her or anything, but instead he simply ignored her or, if he couldn't, gave her cold and haughty looks and answers.

When Hagrid spotted Snape he immediately switched to a less dangerous topic. "Hermione, how's your work going along?"

She gave him a smile and said "Fine, thanks for asking. It's really quite fascinating. Today however I had some problems with a very old book which has been badly damaged – many of the pages are encrusted with some strange bluish substance, perhaps from a failed potions experiment. I'll ask the librarian if she knows any remedies."

"You'll have to wait for that," Hagrid replied, "she's visiting her sister till the day after tomorrow. I met her today on her way out of the grounds."

Hermione had wanted to ask her this evening, but waiting two days didn't really matter. "Never mind, I'll just ask her when she comes back. Hello Remus!" she waved to Lupin who had just entered the hall and steered towards them. The other teachers were arriving as well and when they were all present dinner started. After dinner Lupin challenged Hermione to a game of wizard chess and so she spent the next hours in the common room with him and some of the other teachers. When she finally returned to her rooms, she found a nervous-looking house-elf waiting for her.

"Ms Granger, Prof. Snape wants you to come to the laboratory", and before Hermione could ask him anything he disappeared.

Hermione was rather surprised, after all it was already rather late. What could Snape want from her? She'd given him a few translated formulas for potions two days before, but apart from that they hadn't had much professional contact and none at all on a personal level – so it probably were the potions.

Feeling curious as well as slightly worried, Hermione went to the laboratory. It took her a bit of an effort to knock, and Snape's rather cold "Come in!" didn't really encourage her, but after all it was he who wanted something from her.

When she entered he was standing next to a small cauldron with a bright violet potion she had never seen before.

"I heard you have a problem with a damaged book?" he said even before she could close the door behind her.

"That's true." Realization dawned on Hermione. So he had listened to what she had told Hagrid.

He made a gesture towards the small cauldron. "Try this. You have to coat the pages with it – it won't harm the book."

Hermione felt a bit overwhelmed. Snape still sounded rather unfriendly and seemed to avoid meeting her eyes, but nevertheless he had offered his help.

"Thank you very much, but are you sure it will work?"

His expression darkened and Hermione felt that her question hadn't been such a good idea.

"It will. The librarian is using something quite similar."

"Well then I'll certainly use it" she replied, trying to sound convinced. Hermione went to the cauldron and filled a large flask with the liquid, all the time feeling rather uncomfortable and self-conscious in Snape's presence. "Well, then thank you once again, Professor." She hesitated and suddenly said on a whim "That was very nice of you."

His eyes seemed to widen in surprise and he looked at her intently for a few moments, but then turned away and went towards another cauldron in which a dark green potion was bubbling.

"It's Severus."

When he turned around again his face was unreadable and for a few moments Hermione was at a loss what to say. Finally she caught herself and gave him a dazzling smile.

"Hermione. Well, then good night…Severus."

"Good night…Hermione."

She felt a bit confused but also very light when she closed the door to the laboratory. Severus – a fitting name, but not too bad, if you thought about it.

**...**

Hermione tried the potion as soon as she came back to her rooms. She still was a bit sceptical, and therefore at first coated only a small section of a page, but it worked as Snape had predicted, the potion transforming the strange substance which covered the pages into a mere dust which could be brushed off. The next day, Hermione waited till she found Snape alone and thanked him once again. Somehow she had the feeling that he wouldn't want to be thanked in front of others. His only reaction was a rather cold "I told you it would work", but Hermione nevertheless felt encouraged in her new behaviour towards him.

A few days later Hermione was surprised to find Neville Longbottom sitting at the lunch table. He was grinning broadly and just got up in time before she hurried towards him and threw her arms around him.

"Neville, it's so good to see you! But what are you doing here, I thought you were still in Mexico?"

Hermione had known that Neville had been serving an apprenticeship with Professor Sprout for the last two years, but on her arrival had learned that he was on a field trip to Mexico and wouldn't arrive at Hogwarts until September. Sitting down next to him, Hermione eagerly studied his round and friendly face while he was telling her about his hunt for rare magical plants in South America. She hadn't seen him for over two years and he looked grown up and more sure of himself. After dinner, they walked down to the greenhouses and Neville showed her around. He was visibly enthusiastic about his work, and Hermione was very glad to see him so happy. When they left the greenhouses they went down to the lake and sat on a bench to enjoy the afternoon sun and talk about their friends.

"So what about you and Luna?" Hermione finally asked Neville. He and Luna had spent a lot of time together ever since fifth year, and had definitely got together at the end of seventh year, but Hermione didn't know if their relationship had developed into something more.

A faint blush appeared on Neville's cheeks and Hermione suddenly felt a great wave of affection for him. "Well, yes, we're still together, but unfortunately we're not seeing a lot of each other. You know, she's travelling the world looking for some of the strange animals her father is still going on about."

Hermione sighed. It really was a pity that Luna wasn't a bit more realistic.

"However", Neville continued, "I think she's finally realized that not everything the Quibbler writes is trustworthy. She actually thinks about starting an apprenticeship with Hagrid."

"But that would be wonderful!" Hermione beamed at him. "Then you two could be together again, and it would be great to have her here."

Neville nodded smilingly. "Nothing is settled yet, but if Hagrid agrees she might start next January."

"Oh I'm sure Hagrid will agree. He'll be over the top to have an apprentice with whom to share his enthusiasm about flobberworms and blast-ended-skrewts." Hermione shuddered. "Speaking about unpleasant school memories: How are you getting along with Snape?"

Neville shrugged. "It isn't too bad. To be honest, before I started my apprenticeship I was less than thrilled to see him again, but the only time he talks to me is when he needs ingredients for his potions. He can still be sarcastic and cutting when he's not satisfied with what I bring him, but all in all he's much more civil now I'm no longer his student."

"I'm glad to hear it. It's strange, isn't it. Not longer to be a student, but something of a colleague to our old teachers."

Neville nodded. "Yes, definitely. I guess it's stronger in your case, after all you've been to university and will train to become a teacher. You're really a colleague to them. I on the other hand am only a lowly apprentice who is not even on first-name-basis with all the teachers."

Hermione looked at him searchingly. "Have you ever thought of becoming a teacher? I think you'd be a good one."

Neville gave her a shy smile. "Do you really think so? Well, I've definitely thought about it. Professor Sprout lets me teach from time to time, and I really like it. And I wouldn't mind living here." He looked around at the glittering lake and the sun-filled grounds. "You know, in a way this feels more like home than my grandmother's house ever did."

Thinking about his parents and the home he never had, Hermione suddenly felt a lump in her throat. "Yes, I can understand that" she said softly.

**...**

Two days later Hermione spent a rainy afternoon in the library, looking up spells to compare those she had just translated to. Lupin had left half an hour ago and she was the only one in the library. The rain rapping at the windows was a first sign of autumn, and it wouldn't be too long till school started again.

Suddenly the door opened and Hermione looked up smiling, expecting to see one of her colleagues. But her smile vanished instantly when she saw Lucius Malfoy entering the library, followed by Snape. She hadn't met Draco's father for years, but didn't doubt that he was still involved with Voldemort and bore no love towards her. When he spotted her he stopped for a moment, but then a mixture of surprise, loathing and glee crossed his face.

"Look whom we have here" he snarled towards Snape, coming over to Hermione's table. "The famous Ms Granger has returned to Hogwarts."

Hermione didn't like him towering over her, but neither was she willing to stand up and thus show him that she felt intimidated. "Mr Malfoy" she said as impassionate as possible, looking into his cold light eyes and trying not to blink or to show any other sign of weakness.

"Ms Granger is training to become a teacher." Snape informed Malfoy with a voice hardly less contemptuous than Malfoy's.

"Dumbledore told me." Malfoy still looked down on her as if she was something filthy. "He certainly has a strange taste in teachers…"

Hermione felt her ears grow hot and hoped that her face wasn't as red as she felt it to be. She wouldn't do him the favour of exploding in anger – no, she certainly wouldn't. She'd learned long ago not to be touched by his son's insults, and she wouldn't let Lucius Malfoy make her loose her self control. So she kept silent and only returned his contemptuous gaze with an equally cold stare.

Finally Malfoy broke the eye-contact and turned towards Snape. "Do you have to train her, too?"

They hadn't really talked about that, yet, so Hermione was wondering what he would tell Malfoy.

Snape twisted his mouth in a disdainful smile. "Unfortunately yes. But I'll let her teach only first year-classes."

Malfoy emitted a short laughter. "So there won't be much damage done, I assume?"

"No, I assure you there won't" Snape answered, his face not betraying any emotions.

"Well" Malfoy looked around the library. "I think now I've seen enough for my report for the trustees." He turned towards the door and left without acknowledging Hermione's presence. Snape followed him and shut the door. He hadn't given her another look, either.

When they had left Hermione let out the air she had held. The tension which had gripped her lessened and she felt a slight shiver. She had forgotten how menacing Lucius Malfoy could be. Hermione got up and walked around, trying to calm down again, but it took her a few minutes. She also felt hurt by Snape's behaviour although she knew that he couldn't have acted any different in front of Malfoy. Or were these his real feelings and usually he was just afraid to show them in front of the other teachers? How could she ever be certain with him?

Finally Hermione sat down and tried to get back to work, but couldn't concentrate properly. After a while she gave up and went to her rooms. It was nearly time for dinner anyway, so she just had a quick shower and then set out for the hall, her thoughts occupied with something which had been on her mind for months, but which Malfoy's visit had brought to the fore again. She'd ask Remus about it after dinner.

**...**

During dinner Malfoy's unannounced visit was the subject of vivid discussion. Snape again treated Hermione as he had done for the last days – which meant not really friendly, but respectfully. He didn't refer to what had happened in the library nor did he participate in the discussion about Malfoy.

When they left the table, Hermione turned towards Lupin. "Remus, I'd like to ask you something – perhaps if you have time later on…?"

He looked intrigued but only said "Sure, just come to my quarters at 9 o'clock. Is that all right?"

She nodded. "Thanks, I'll come. See you then." And she turned towards the library to finish what she hadn't done that afternoon.

Later in the evening Hermione found herself sitting in Lupin's living room and sipping hot chocolate. She'd always suspected that he was keen on chocolate, and over the last weeks this hunch had been confirmed. Mentally she made a note to get him some good muggle chocolate when she next had a chance.

"So what is this you want to ask me?" He asked her curiously. It was only a few days till full moon and he already looked rather drawn. But he never let his condition affect his behaviour towards other people, a trait Hermione respected very much.

"Well, you know, it's something I've been thinking about for quite a while now – and when I met Malfoy today it just seemed to be the right time to do something about it."

He furrowed his brow. "He didn't do anything, did he?"

"No," Hermione shook her head. "He only insulted me – you know how he is. Nothing I couldn't cope with. But this brought home to me that I'm back in the game, as you may say. None of us knows what might happen concerning Voldemort, and I know that Malfoy and his friends are capable of much more than just insults. Over the last years I've slackened in my studies concerning Defence against the Dark Arts – you know I never was as good as Harry. And when I was at University I guess I subconsciously hoped that Voldemort would be defeated before I would have to join the fight again. When I came here, I started revising things, but you know that theory doesn't really help you much in real combat. Well, the long and short of it is that I'd like to ask you if you could practice with me or show me some tricks I don't know yet – of course only if you have time for it."

Hermione looked at Lupin expectantly and was rewarded by a large smile which lit his tired face. "Sure, great idea. You're right, we all could need a bit of practice. Actually" he was thinking "perhaps it'd be a good idea to ask the other teachers as well? If you don't mind, I mean –" Hermione shook her head. "Brilliant." Lupin beamed at her. "Some of them might be too proud to admit that they need a bit of revision, but I'm sure that most of them would be glad to practice and share their experiences." He was visibly enthusiastic about the idea. "I'll tell Albus about it tomorrow. And I'll ask Severus to help, he probably knows more about Death Eaters tactics than any of us."

Hermione felt a cold shudder but smiled at Lupin who was overflowing with plans. She wasn't especially keen on Snape training them, but she had to admit that he was certainly qualified for it.

**...**

At lunch the next day Dumbledore told the gathered teachers about Lupin's idea. Most of them were either enthusiastic about it or at least willing to participate, and they fixed on the evening for the first session which was to be held in the Room of Requirements.

When Hermione entered the Room of Requirements after dinner, she had a strong sense of déjà vu. The room looked very much as it had when they had secretly practiced there in her fifth year. When she looked at Neville she knew that he, too, was thinking of their secret meetings there.

For the first session, they'd agreed on practicing shielding spells. Lupin was nominally their teacher, but anyone with the wish to demonstrate something was welcome to do so. Later, when they'd practice to counter some vicious spells often employed by Death Eaters, Snape would take over – at last a chance for him to teach Defence against the Dark Arts, Hermione thought ironically. According to Lupin, Snape hadn't shown any enthusiasm for their plan (when did he ever), but had admitted that it was a good idea and agreed to take part.

They divided into pairs and at first practiced simple shielding spells by attacking each other with more or less harmless spells. Hermione had been paired up with Prof. McGonagall and at first felt a bit inhibited, but when McGonagall caught her unawares with a vicious tickling spell she shed her self-consciousness and tried to get past the elder woman's guard.

When they'd practiced the simple spells for some time, they moved on to more advanced ones. Practicing those was not without danger, since stronger attacking spells would be used to test if they had got the shielding spells right. When they were sure that all could perform the spells, two of them were in turn practicing to shield themselves against potentially fatal spells under the supervision of Lupin and McGonagall, while the rest was sticking to less dangerous spells.

Hermione had changed partners a few times when she finally found herself standing opposite of Snape. It wasn't their turn yet for the really dangerous spells, but she was sure that he wouldn't be too nice to her. He lowered his head a little to signal that he was ready and she attacked him with a succession of spells which he all deflected without seeming to be troubled in the least. Hermione smiled grimly when she thought how often she had wished for such a chance as a student, but grudgingly had to admit that his reflexes were excellent.

After Snape had demonstrated his abilities it was Hermione's turn and she prepared for his attack. She was able to deflect his first two spells well enough, but then he caught her with a nasty one before she was able to erect a new defence. Stifling a cry at the fiery pain in her arm, she saw her wand fly out of her hand. Cursing herself for her slow reaction she turned to pick up her wand, her arm throbbing painfully. When she got up again, she found Snape and Madame Pomfrey standing next to her. The latter took her arm, mumbling if it was really necessary to hurt each other when Voldemort was doing it anyway, and performed a spell which lessened the pain considerably. Hermione flexed her fingers and thanked her. The arm still hurt, but she could use it again.

When she concentrated on Snape once again, he was looking at her critically. Hermione felt a mixture of shame because he had got her, as well as defiance – after all she wasn't an old veteran like the others.

"Malfoy probably wouldn't have aimed at your arm, but your heart" he said dispassionately."

Hermione felt herself blush. "I'm aware of that", she said rather stiffly. "I wasn't quick enough."

"You have to be. Are you ready again?" Hermione nodded, feeling angry with him, and prepared for his attack. She didn't want to let him get her once more.

They worked grimly for several minutes, Snape attacking her with more and more powerful spells and Hermione concentrating very hard to create and keep up her shields. Finally he performed a spell she had never heard before, and although she tried to shield herself, it was a split second too late, the main thrust of the spell still catching her at her right shoulder.

This time she managed to hold on to her wand in spite of the pain and immediately cast a new shielding spell, awaiting Snape's next attack. But he had lowered his wand and when she looked around she noticed that the other pairs were taking a break, relaxing and chatting for a few minutes.

"Are you all right?"

She turned towards him and nodded, surprised by his enquiry. "Yes, I guess so." She looked for Madame Pomfrey, but she was busy with Prof. Vector whose hair had turned into viciously hissing snakes.

"Sorry, I was too slow again", she said, feeling a bit foolish.

"Yes, you were. But overall your performance wasn't too bad."

For a few moments Hermione stared at him flabbergasted before catching herself again. This was the first praise – if you could call it that – she had ever got from him.

"Well, thanks… I guess I should have Madame Pomfrey have a look at my shoulder" she said, giving him a crooked smile. He only nodded and she went to get herself fixed again.

After the break they changed partners once more and Hermione found herself paired with Neville. This time it was their turn to practice under the supervision of Lupin and McGonagall, and Hermione was concentrating harder then she had since her last exams, fully aware that she could hurt her partner grievously or be injured herself. Her performance of the spells was quite good, but she could definitely improve her reaction time. Hermione was glad to see that Neville was doing well, too.

At the end of the lesson Hermione taught her colleagues a few Old English spells she had found in the books from the vault. Usually Old English spells weren't as potent and as developed as the Latin ones, but Hermione had chosen a few she thought quite useful, and the great advantage was that Voldemort and his minions wouldn't know them and thus wouldn't know how to react to them. This might give them a great advantage even if the spells themselves weren't that powerful.

When they finally stopped it was nearly midnight and Hermione felt physically and mentally exhausted. Looking at the others, they seemed as tired as she felt, but they all agreed that it had been a good idea and that they'd meet again next week.


	5. What might have been

**What might have been**

Hermione was standing in front of Snape's door and hesitated. Should she really knock and disturb him? She'd probably be thrown out before she could even say hello. He would be in a foul temper and she certainly wasn't keen on being shouted at by her former least-liked-teacher – well, that was not true, there had been Umbridge and Trelawney, after all – but still… Hermione raised her hand to knock, but hesitated. She didn't want to appear the meddling know-it-all Snape had thought her to be when she had been his student – she hoped that over the last weeks he had got a different impression of her. Strange, how appearances could deceive, not only regarding herself, but also regarding him. If anyone had told her some years ago that one day she would be standing in front of his rooms in the middle of the night, truly worrying about him, she would have thought him nuts. So why was she here in the cold corridor instead of comfortably sitting in her cosy rooms with a good book and a purring Crookshanks on her lap? Snape would only be furious and she would be helping neither him nor herself. Hermione lowered her hand and was ready to turn around and return to her rooms, when a picture of what he had looked like during dinner that night came into her mind. 

Nobody had seen Snape for three days. School was not going to start for a few days, but still it was strange even for him to shun everyone like this. He hadn't reacted to anyone's knocks at his door and seemed to have blocked the Floo-network to his rooms. When he had turned up for dinner that evening, they had thought that this might finally indicate a change in his mood. But their hopes had soon been shattered and the glances the teachers and especially Dumbledore and McGonagall had exchanged were proof enough that they were as worried about him as Hermione was. Snape had looked terrible. His hair had been greasier than ever, there had been dark shadows under his eyes, his skin had been as white as chalk and he had had a hard time concealing that his hands were shaking. Hermione had been horrified. Some of the teachers had tried to very carefully put some questions to him, but he had only answered with burning looks and biting snarls so that soon they had chosen to ignore him, only throwing him worried glances when he wasn't looking at them. Snape had got up as soon as politeness allowed and had swept out of the dining hall with his robes billowing behind him. Dumbledore had followed Snape and had stopped him outside the hall, and Hermione, who had left the table as well, had managed just in time to dive into a dark alcove to avoid being seen. She had not been able to understand what Dumbledore had said to Snape, but his cutting answer of "you shouldn't worry about me, you of all people should know that I'm not worth the effort" had been audible enough. Snape had hurried to his rooms and had left Dumbledore standing there, shaking his head and finally turning towards his office.

Hermione had gone to the library, to get the picture of Snape out of her head and do something useful. But when she had realized that she had been staring at the same page for ten minutes, her mind busy with quite different things, she had admitted defeat and had gone to her rooms. But even there, were everything emitted comfort and cheerfulness, she hadn't been able to forget the look in Snape's eyes. She had only seen it for a short moment at dinner when everyone had been animatedly talking about the newest Quidditch-results and Snape obviously had thought that nobody was paying attention to him. It had been a look of such utter sadness and desperation that Hermione had felt an icy shower running down her spine and a terrible coldness rising in her breast. At that moment Snape, who had seemed to have sensed that she was looking at him, had turned to her and put on his usual mask of snarling guardedness. His burning black eyes had sunken into hers, daring her to pity him, and she had looked away, mind swirling and feeling sad and full of pity.

And that was the reason why Hermione was now standing here – had been standing here for some minutes already – because even when she had been cuddling Crookshanks in her most comfortable chair she couldn't get his look out of her mind.

And after all, Snape – or rather Severus, as she was now entitled to call him, even if it still felt a bit strange to do so – was her colleague and friend now. Well, kind of friend. Hermione was still trying to come to terms with their new relationship as colleagues, and with realizing that he wasn't an evil bat after all – at least not on a good day. They had been working together for some time now, and she had grown not only to respect him but also admire his intelligence. Of course he had been as guarded as she had when they had started working together, but after some time not only she had become less nervous, but he had loosened up as well. And she had been pleasantly surprised to discover that he had a sense of humour after all, if quite a twisted and dark one. After some time Hermione had had to admit to herself that she enjoyed working with him, measuring her intellect with his and sometimes feeling truly understood and appreciated. Not that he had ever said anything to that effect, but to hear a passing "this idea is not too bad" from him was praise enough. He still had his occasional spells of dark brooding, but they had never been as bad as this time. Now he was not only neglecting his work – which was exceptional enough for him – but judging by the way he looked he was also jeopardizing his health, and there was no way to say how long this would go on.

Who knew what he was capable of doing, he might even become a danger to himself. Suddenly Hermione pictured Snape sitting alone in his rooms, raising some sinister cup and drinking poison. No, this was impossible, he wouldn't… or would he? She would never forgive herself if she turned away now because she was too afraid to face him and he would do something to himself. Hell, she had faced Voldemort, Snape couldn't be worse, could he? And anyway, she knew that she couldn't sleep now, she would be wide awake all night wondering what he was doing.

So she finally raised her hand again, drew in her breath, straightened up and knocked three times on his door.

Nothing happened.

He wouldn't really commit suicide, would he?… Hermione knocked again, five times now and with more urgency.

"Leave me alone!" came his angry voice from inside, only slightly muffled by the thick oak-door.

Hermione hesitated. At least he didn't seem to be on the brink of death – she could go now if she wanted…

"Severus, it's Hermione. Please let me in."

Silence. She raised her hand to knock again, halted in the last moment by his infuriated voice.

"Miss Granger, even someone with his head as far up in the clouds – or in your case books – as you should have noticed that I'm not keen on visitors at the moment. And especially not after midnight! So please leave me alone!"

Ups, was it really already that late? Hermione checked her muggle-watch, a connection to the world she came from which she had kept over all these years, and truly, it was already twenty minutes past twelve. Still, she had gone that far, she wouldn't retreat now.

"I'm sorry it's so late, but I really have to talk to you. There has been a problem…ehm…with one of our experiments…the fire potion…You know how instable it can get…"

Great, Hermione. Now he'll be really pleased when he finds out that you lied to get into his quarters….

Still silence.

"Severus, this is ridiculous. If you don't let me in I'll stand here in front of your door all night, banging and shouting till you give up."

More silence. Hermione was actually quite glad that it was already that late. So at least she wouldn't be embarrassed by anyone watching her unsuccessfully banging at Snape's door in the middle of the night. She was ready to shout at the door again, feeling slightly stupid, when suddenly she heard a spell murmured from inside and the door opened.

Snape's quarters were very dark, all blinds drawn shut and the only light coming from the fire in the fireplace. The air was oppressive – he really should open his windows – and Hermione thought about leaving the door open so that at least some fresh air could come in. But Snape murmured another spell and the door shut again with a deep boom which made Hermione feel rather caught.

He was sitting in front of the fire, sunken into a tall armchair. There was a bottle of Whisky on the table, and an empty glass. The fire was throwing moving shadows on his face, strengthening the infuriated look he was giving her.

Hermione suddenly felt a great lump in her throat. Although she tried to be reasonable, she couldn't help feeling like a small animal in a raptor's den, like the heroine in _Phantom of the Opera_ or _Beauty and the Beast_. Actually the whole situation would have seemed like a bad cliché if it hadn't been so intimidating. Perhaps it hadn't been such a good idea after all, who knew what he might do to her…

"Miss Granger" – so he was back to snarling 'Miss Granger' again, keeping her at distance and reminding her of the time when he had had absolute power over her as his student – "what is so important that you harass me in the middle of the night? I thought that even you should have been able to brew an undemanding potion without running to me all the time."

He straightened up but kept sitting, staring at her coldly, his most contemptuous smile on his face.

Hermione was speechless for a moment, feeling hurt and angry. How could he dare to treat her like this when she had only been worrying about him? What a waste to come here when all she got was abuse by an obviously intoxicated old bat! She was ready to rush out of the room, but then he would have got what he had wanted. No, two could play that game, he wouldn't get rid of her so soon.

Hermione went to his chair, looking down at him with – she hoped – a look full of cold composure and put on her most distanced high-style English: "Professor Snape, as you should be aware I am absolutely able to deal with our experiments by myself. I only had to think up a reason to make you open the door since you insisted on acting like a wilful child."

He gave an angry start, speechless for a few seconds, and Hermione felt a rush of triumph. This however vanished when he suddenly got up, towering over her, blocking the firelight and radiating darkness.

"How dare you, meddling Gryffindor! Get out immediately!" His voice and appearance were so intimidating that Hermione was very tempted to comply, but then she would never stop feeling like a little schoolgirl in his presence.

"Severus, for God's sake, what's happened to you?" She couldn't keep up her disdainful tone, but this unexpected answer seemed to have worked better than any insult. For a moment Snape looked confused, ill and very tired. Than the old mask slipped back into place and he was glaring at her again, but without the deadly fury that had been in his eyes before.

Hermione felt encouraged. Noticing that she had been clenching her fists so much that it hurt, she unclenched them and took a deep mental breath.

"Listen, Severus, I'm sorry to disturb you, I really am. I know how annoying it is if you just want to be alone and people with good intentions come bothering you. But we are all really worried about you. You might not have noticed it but you look terrible and I was wondering if there is anything I could do to help you…"

Her voice trailed off. She didn't have a clue what to do or say next and was feeling rather uncomfortable.

Snape was still eying her suspiciously, but than he sat down again, raised his hand to his brow as if to wipe away something that bothered him, and pointed to another chair facing his.

Hermione sat down on the edge of the chair, not sure what to expect now, and decided to keep quiet and let Snape make the next move in his time.

He took the bottle and filled his glass without looking at her. Then he glanced at Hermione questioningly, but she shook her head. She had to keep a cool head now.

Snape took a few sips, still avoiding her eyes, and put the glass down again.

"Hermione" (ah, at least something!) "I appreciate your worrying about me – even if there might have been a better time to express it" he turned to meet her eyes "during the day, for example, and not in the middle of the night."

She gave him a small guilty smile and tried to hold his gaze.

"However, I can assure you that everything is all right. There's nothing to worry about for you or my other colleagues, and therefore I would appreciate it if you would leave me now. I am rather tired and would like to go to bed."

Oh no, he wouldn't get rid of her so easily.

"Severus, I certainly don't want to be nosy, but just looking at you tells me that something definitely is not right. For God's sake, you haven't even been to the laboratory for three days! And it certainly isn't your habit to consume large quantities of alcohol." That was a mere guess, but his clenching his fingers showed her that it had been a lucky one.

His eyes were flaming defiantly. "What I do in my free time is none of your concerns! I am sorry if I should have neglected my work, but I can assure you that there won't be any reasons for complaints in the future. And now please be so kind to leave me alone!"

Hermione could see that he was extremely infuriated and barely able to control his rage, but if she left now she wouldn't have changed anything.

"Severus, you really should…"

"Get the hell our of here!" He was on his feet again, towering over her, shouting, his face a mask of fury and anger. "I have enough of your meddling Gryffindor mentality! Your nosiness is getting on my nerves and I certainly don't want your or anybody's pity! So please, leave me, go away or I can't guarantee what I will do!"

Snape really looked as if he would jump and strangle her any moment. But since he was standing right in front of her, barring Hermione's way out of the armchair, she couldn't leave right now even if she wanted to – and at the moment Hermione was more than willing. However, she was quite angry now, too. And since he was already infuriated now and would probably hate her for the rest of his life anyway, she might as well tell him a few things she had been thinking about him for some time now – he wouldn't really strangle her, would he?

"You know what your problem is, Severus?" she said as calmly as possible, suppressing her own anger and trying not to feel intimidated by the fury he radiated. "You are afraid to let other people care for you. For God's sake, we are your friends, if you want it or not, and so it's quite natural that we are worried! I know it may seem strange to you, but we really like you! But you seem to be so much afraid of any kind of emotion except suspicion and scorn that you just can't bring yourself to accept it. You know what? I pity you, I really do. But not because you seem depressed and ill, but because you're obviously too much afraid to accept the friendship we're willing to give you, and prefer to hide behind your mask of snarling contempt. What a sad and lonely life you must be leading, hiding in this, this dreary den!"

Hermione was at a loss what to say next. Her heart was pounding like mad and she couldn't believe that she had just said all these things. Snape was still standing right in front of her, very rigid now, as if in shock, gazing at her in unbelief.

Finally he staggered back and sunk into his armchair, turning his face away from her and staring into the fire. His hands were clenched around the armrest of the chair and he was breathing heavily.

Hermione felt extremely uncomfortable. The silence became more and more oppressive and she wondered if she should just leave quietly. This was much more worrying than when he had just shouted at her. Had she been too harsh to him, too insulting? Finally, after some long minutes of nearly suffocating silence, she cleared her throat and said softly:

"Severus? Hm, I'm sorry for what I just said, I really didn't want to hurt you."

No reaction.

"If you want I will go now."

Still no reaction.

Hermione got up, feeling rather bad, and turned to the door.

"Wait."

She froze. He had turned to her again, his face without any fury now, just very weary and sad.

Hermione sat down again. "May I have a drink now?"

His mouth twitched in a smile hardly noticeable. He summoned another glass and poured some Whisky into it.

"Listen, Severus, I'm really sorry, I had no right to say such things to you. I, I feel really bad about it…"

There was the short bitter smile again. "Typically Gryffindor, always blurting out what's on their mind and only later realizing that it might not have been such a good idea after all."

He was quite right – but well, it had worked, after all, hadn't it. She seemed to have finally cracked his shell.

"Hermione, I" he was visibly struggling. "I am aware that my colleagues care for me, even if I don't know why, and I am grateful for it."

He took a large sip of Whisky.

"Nevertheless this is nothing which concerns them or with which they could help me. It might even make them despise me more than they perhaps ever did. And who can blame them…" His voice trailed off.

"I am grateful for your concerns, Hermione, and I apologize for my shouting at you, but there are reasons for the way I am, and I don't know if I could change even if I wanted to. Well, at least I can guarantee you that my rooms look less like a dreary den when there is more light and the windows are open."

His mouth twisted in something like a smile, but his eyes stayed grave and sad.

Hermione realized that this would be the moment to leave, having made a kind of peace with Snape. But she knew that his sad dark eyes would still be haunting her if she went now. She sighed internally but knew that she couldn't help it.

"If it is something to do with your past I am sure that you have redeemed yourself more than once in the last years."

She held her breath, painfully aware that as far as she knew noone apart from Dumbledore had ever dared to broach this subject with him.

Snape went rigid, an unreadable expression on his face.

"You have no idea what you're talking about." His voice was flat, without any discernible emotions. Hermione felt a cold shiver running down her spine. The tension in the room was nearly tangible and she had to clear her throat before she was able to answer.

"Then perhaps you could explain it to me."

His dark eyes burned into hers searchingly, never blinking, as if he wanted to figure out her motives.

"If this is the only way to make you leave me alone…?" Their eyes were locked, tension building up until Snape finally gave her a short and bitter smile. "So be it."

His face was unreadable and Hermione was wondering uncomfortably what he would do now.

With a flicker of his wand Snape summoned something from across the room into Hermione's lap. It was the _Daily Prophet_, opened at the obituaries.

"Did someone die, someone you knew?" That certainly would explain the state he was in. Snape only inclined his head a bit and turned to the fire again. Obviously he wasn't willing to give her more clues just now, so she turned to examine the obituaries in detail.

Hermione definitely preferred muggle-obituaries – looking at moving pictures of people whose death was announced always made her feel a bit strange. There were only five on the page, three of men and two of women. Since Hermione was at a loss how to find out who of them might have had a connection to Snape, she started to read what was printed below the photograph of the first one, a venerable looking old wizard, but then she stopped and turned to the last obituary on the page. It was the photograph which had caught her interest, the picture of a pretty young woman with long, dark hair, proudly wearing her Hogwarts's graduation-gown and looking at Hermione with an open smile, laughter dancing in her bright eyes.

Hermione was confused. If this was one of the last pictures of the dead girl, she couldn't have been very old and she would have been a student with Hermione. But Hermione was sure that she had never seen her before. Turning to the short text below the photograph, Hermione read that Sarah McIvor had died at the age of 44, deeply mourned by her loving parents and brother.

So why had they taken such an old picture of her?

She had been roughly Snape's age, hadn't she? A bit younger probably. Perhaps he had known her at school.

Hermione checked the photo again. She had been a Ravenclaw, but still…

Hermione skimmed over the other obituaries, but somehow she had a feeling that it was Sarah McIvor Snape was mourning for. Had she been his girlfriend? She had to smile at this thought, but why not, Snape was a man after all. Or was it something different, something to do with Voldemort?

Hermione cleared her throat again and looked at Snape who was still staring into the fire, showing her only his profile.

"Is it Sarah McIvor?"

"Yes." He turned towards her, his face still unreadable. "Congratulations, you've again proven your extraordinary intelligence." Snape reached for the Whisky and poured the rest of it into his glass, taking a large sip and keeping it in his hand when he looked up at Hermione again.

"Did you know her at Hogwarts?" (Damn, Severus, don't let me drag everything out of you!)

"Yes." The silence was uncomfortable but Hermione wanted him to go on without her prompting him all the time.

Just when the silence began to feel unbearable Snape emptied his glass, put it on the table and sank back into his armchair. His face was shadowed by the sides of the chair and only the dancing fire shed some flickering light on it.

"As you undoubtedly have noticed Sarah was a Ravenclaw, extremely intelligent and talented." His voice sounded impassionate, but below the surface Hermione believed to discern a deep sadness.

"She was also very friendly and helpful, never arrogant, with a strong sense of justice. Everybody liked her."

He paused and Hermione hardly dared to move lest it should stop him.

"She was one year below me. When I was in my final year, Sarah had the idea that the relations between the four houses should be improved. She wanted us all to be a big happy family."

There was a shadow of the typical Snape-snarl – ever the Slytherin.

"She and her friends thought up a lot of activities and competitions – a bit like the Housecup, but with mixed teams – we even had mixed Quidditch-teams. Dumbledore and McGonagall were enthusiastic about it and so some students of all the houses were chosen to take part in it. There were four teams and every team consisted of twelve students, three from each house. Each team had a leader, one from each house, who were picked by Dumbledore. The leaders then chose the students for their team. Not surprisingly, Sarah was appointed as one of the leaders. What was surprising was that she chose me for her team…

"I have never been someone who likes to take part in stupid competitions, and I was furious when I was picked when all I wanted to do was studying for my N.E.W.T.s. But in spite of my protests I couldn't get out of it. Sarah took great pains with me and the other two Slytherins, and after the first very uncomfortable weeks were over we really started to feel like a team. At the end we won the cup, beating even James Potter and his friends."

His voice had an edge of triumph in it, and his face lit up for a moment, but then he sunk back into the shadows again.

"At first I was quite nasty to her, making cutting remarks all the time, letting her feel that I just wanted to be alone and didn't want any part in this. But she never gave up on me. One of our first tasks was to stage a play. I was not amused, as you can imagine. I didn't want to make a fool out of myself in front of the whole school. We finally decided on doing _Much Ado about Nothing _–I would have preferred something less ridiculous, _King Lear_ or _Hamlet_, but I was overruled. Sarah played Beatrice – she was great, absolutely stunning. She asked me to play Benedick, but this just seemed preposterous to me. I didn't want to play that part – probably most of all because I was afraid that the rest of the school would think it ridiculous. So I played Don John, not a surprising choice. But when we started rehearsing and especially when we were finally performing I realized that I would have loved to be Benedick if I could just have summed up the courage to do it. Everyone told me what a great Don John I was and how well I fitted into the role, but that only made me realize what a sad life I was leading…

"Sarah also insisted on helping me revise for my exams, arguing that it was her fault that I didn't have as much time as I would have had without the competition. I was very wary at first, puzzled about her intentions. You have seen that she was quite good looking and there were several male students who would have liked to be her friend or preferably lover. There were some nasty rumours when she started to spend time with me.

"At first I didn't know what to think of her, I couldn't accept that she really cared for me and wanted to be my friend. I still can't believe how patient she was with me. Finally however I dared to accept her friendship. I have never worked as much as during that time, but it was also my happiest year at Hogwarts…

"We stayed in contact after I left school, even when I had joined the Dark Lord."

Hermione flinched. She was very curious why Snape had become a Death Eater, but didn't dare to interrupt him.

"The more I got involved with the Dark Lord, the less I wrote her. My letters got more and more bland – I didn't want her to know about this part of my life. Sarah came from an old pure-blood-family and her father's parents had strong sympathies for the Dark Lord, but I would never have expected her to join him – everything in her character was against it. So I was shocked when I suddenly spotted her at a meeting of the Death Eaters.

"I was watching her all the time without being able to speak to her. At first I was stunned, but then I reasoned that she was just as ambitious as I was and longed for knowledge perhaps even more than I did. After the meeting I talked to her. She told me that she had suspected for a long time that I had joined the Dark Lord – I was surprised, but she wouldn't tell me more. Neither did she tell me why she herself had joined him – all her answers were rather evasive. But since I didn't want to talk about my motives either, I didn't press her. In those days I was still only in the low ranks of the Dark Lord's organization and we hardly did anything apart from meeting once per month. But Sarah and I started meeting outside these gatherings and soon took up our old friendship again. She complained that I had fallen back into my old brooding ways, and that it was high time that someone took care of me. But she herself had changed as well, now it was she who had spells of dark brooding and who had to be cheered up. I was glad that now I could do something for her – I was glad to have her back…

"Probably I had suspected it all the time. She just wasn't the type to join the Dark Lord. And I could see that she didn't like what we were doing, even if it gave us knowledge and power beyond imagination. Sarah was horrified when she heard about the deeds of people in higher ranks – she tried to hide it but I knew her too well. But I never doubted her friendship for me.

"This changed when she started asking me questions about the Dark Lord's plans and organization – not that I knew much about it then. Still I didn't want to admit to myself that she might be betraying my trust, betraying our friendship. But one night when she was visiting me I found her searching my desk for some papers. She knew that she was caught and that it was useless to lie to me – she told me everything. Sarah was a spy…

"We had never been more than just friends – I would never have dared to hope for more. But she was the only person I had dared to trust, the person most dear to me. I felt betrayed and terribly furious, I was convinced that she had been using me all the time, acting as my friend to get information. She denied it, she claimed that she really liked me, that she was worried about me and that that had been one of the reasons why she had become a spy in the first place.

"We had a terrible quarrel. She tried to persuade me to leave the Dark Lord, but I was too hurt and too furious to listen to her. Finally I just threw her out. I was in a terrible state and didn't know what to do. I was torn between her and my loyalty to the Dark Lord, I felt betrayed and used but at the same time I felt guilty and was afraid for her.

"In the morning I went to her flat. I wanted to warn her to leave immediately. I would never betray her, but sooner or later it would come out. But she wasn't there…

"It took me all day and the whole night to find her, but when I finally did I came too late. She had been caught breaking into a high-rank Death Eater's house some hours after she had left me – a truly foolish action. She probably only did it because she had been as shaken by our quarrel as I had been."

Snape's voice was hoarse.

"They must have tortured her for hours. The Dark Lord was furious when he found out, he likes to handle traitors himself. I don't know what they did to her but when I finally found her, there was hardly a sound bone left in her body. Her…her face had been terribly cut. But the worst thing was that her mind was broken. They had driven her insane."

Hermione felt sick and very cold. Snape had turned his face away again, his voice raw with emotion.

"She survived and was put into St Mungo's, but she never regained her sanity again. It probably would have been better if they had killed her. All the years I have been wondering what might have been if I hadn't thrown her out that night, if I had just listened to her. And…and if she thought that I had betrayed her when they caught her…"

Snape stared into the fire, his body unnaturally stiff.

There was silence for several minutes. Hermione felt too sad and shaken to offer Snape phrases of comfort which must seem empty in face of his sorrow. Finally he turned to her again, his face composed but without the normal mask, full of sadness.

"So now you know. I visited her only two weeks ago, and the doctors told me that she was getting very weak. She seemed quite peaceful then, not as frightened as she usually was. And once for a very short moment I even thought that she might have recognized me… But that was probably only wishful thinking. I should be glad that it's all over for her now, and yet…"

"She was an extraordinary woman." Hermione didn't know what to say more, every condolence just seemed bland.

"Yes, she was."

They sat there in silence for some minutes, Hermione looking at the picture of the smiling young woman, feeling very sad and weary.

"Thank you for telling me, Severus. I think I should better be going now, it is already rather late – sorry that I was so obtrusive…"

"No, don't apologize. I think it was good to tell you – she shouldn't be forgotten. So your Gryffindor-perseverance has served you well after all."

He gave her a small smile.

"I'll be back to normal again tomorrow, I promise. She wouldn't want me to spend my days brooding in a dreary den…"

"No, I'm sure she wouldn't. Good night, Severus."

"Good night, Hermione."

Hermione gave a last look to the picture and went to the door. When she stepped out into the corridor she turned to lock the door and caught a final image of Snape, sitting sunken into his chair, his head propped up on his right hand, the other hand holding the newspaper, the fire throwing flickering shadows on his sad face.


	6. Plans

_First of all thanks for your feedback! It is highly appreciated, so please give me your thoughts. As you might have guessed, English is not my first language. So if you find any glaring mistakes, please tell me and I'll correct them._

**Plans**

Snape kept word. The following morning he showed up for breakfast in what might be called his best spirits, astonishing everyone with his changed behaviour and appearance. He had obviously decided to take more care of himself and his hair looked suspiciously as if he had not only cut it a bit but also used a shampoo. He still evaded any questions, but at least didn't snarl at everyone and even started a conversation with McGonagall. When he looked at Hermione, she gave him a radiant smile and he answered with a slight inclination of his head.

Once again he left the table quite early, murmuring that he still had to prepare several lessons, but Hermione didn't want to talk to him anyway. She was rather unsure as to how the events of the night might have changed their relationship.

Hermione was eager to learn more about Sarah McIvor, but didn't want to appear to pray into Snape's personal affairs. So after having worked for two hours during the morning, she set out for the library to get some information by looking through the old yearbooks.

When Hermione arrived at the library only McGonagall was there, but she just gave Hermione a short nod and then returned to the book she was reading. It wasn't hard to find the yearbooks covering Sarah's school years and soon Hermione was carrying a pile of books to a table well shielded by several shelves.

Unlike most of the other yearbooks, the ones Hermione had picked had obviously been handled a lot. When she took up the one from the year when Sarah had arrived at Hogwarts, it opened immediately at a page with a picture of James Potter. Hardly surprising, Harry had spent ages browsing through these books and looking at the pictures of his parents until finally Dumbledore had given him some copies for himself.

It was always surprising how much James resembled Harry – well, the other way round, really. But Hermione now turned to look for Sarah and, she had to admit it, Snape.

There wasn't much text yet about Sarah, but a nice picture of her as a quite cute 10year-old, smiling enthusiastically into the camera. There would be more about her in later yearbooks. The same was true about Severus, only he didn't smile but looked rather sourly and perhaps a bit frightened.

It was strange to see him as a child. In a way Hermione felt intrusive, as if she was looking at things he wouldn't want her to see. Judging from a class photo, he had been relatively small at this age. His hair had been short, but his pronounced facial features had already been very much like they were now.

Hermione went on through all the yearbooks, gathering impressions of Sarah's intelligence, successes and commitment to Hogwarts, and of Snape's similar scholarly successes, but also his status as an outsider even with his Slytherin fellow-students. Hermione thought she could see how he more and more built up the mask of snarling contempt she had grown accustomed to during her own schooldays. There was only one exception, a picture from his last year, when his and Sarah's group had won the cup. It was a large photo, covering a whole page, and showing them all gathered around an absurdly ugly and large goblet, smiling proudly and waving triumphantly. Even he was smiling and for once seemed to be really happy.

Hermione was browsing through the books until it was time for lunch, her head full of impressions and thoughts which finally formed into a plan.

**...**

After pondering her plan the whole afternoon, Hermione decided to talk to Snape after dinner. He would probably be in the laboratory, and since she had some experiments which needed looking after, it would be quite natural for her to show up there. She still wasn't sure if and how their relationship had changed after the previous night, and it would certainly be easier to just meet him on something like neutral ground than to go to his rooms again. They had exchanged a few words during lunch and dinner, but nothing exuding the usual small-talk, and Hermione felt a bit nervous about addressing him on a more personal level again.

However, her well-laid plan, including several phrases she had thought up to start the conversation with, was shattered when someone knocked at her door just when she was about to set out for the laboratory.

"Come in!" Hermione called, wondering who this would be.

To her surprise it was Snape, holding a rather ruffled looking Crookshanks in his arms. As soon as the ginger cat-kneazle spotted Hermione, he wriggled himself out of Snape's grasp, trotted to her and started to swish around her legs, purring loudly.

"Sorry to interrupt you, but I just found your cat in one of the great glass-tubs in the laboratory. He obviously slipped in but couldn't get out again. He was lucky that the tub was empty."

Crookshanks purred even louder and Hermione kneeled down to fetch him up which made him increase his purring until he sounded like a lawnmower.

"Thanks a lot for releasing him. Sometimes he's quite stupid, really."

The purring decreased considerably. It was strange that Crookshanks, who usually displayed an uncanny amount of intelligence, should have got stuck in a tub. Hermione eyed the purring cat suspiciously, not sure if she only imagined that he was looking rather smug. Not for the first time she thought that there was more to him than met the eye.

Snape, who was still standing in the doorframe, made a movement as if he wanted to leave. "Well, tell him to stay out of the laboratory in the future. It certainly isn't a place for a cat. Good night."

"Hm, would you like to come in?"

Snape hesitated, visibly surprised. He was probably worried that she would want to talk about his past again, so she had to reassure him quickly. "I just wanted to ask you about a plan I have."

He seemed to decide that this sounded harmless enough and stepped over the threshold, closing the door behind him. Snape had never been in her rooms before and now looked around, scrutinizing the mixture of wizard and muggle objects, the books and furniture.

"Would you like something to drink? Tea perhaps?" asked Hermione.

"Thank you, tea would be nice." Since Hermione employed houselfs as little as possible, she got up and started to prepare two cups. Snape went to a shelf with muggle-books, most of them English classics, eyeing them curiously. Then his gaze turned to a picture above it, showing a smiling Hermione with four other young men and women, all clad in red gowns, and a venerable looking elder couple in front of what looked like the ruins of a large church. Finally he went to a chair, sat down and Crookshanks deserted Hermione to rub against his legs until Snape absentmindedly started to groom him. "How was your time in St Andrews?"

"Oh, it was great. Hard work but I also had lots of fun. Have you ever been there?"

"Yes, I've been there several times. I've also met your teachers Aurelia and Winfred Kendrick. They're brilliant wizards."

"They definitely are, and very nice, too. I learned a lot from them, and not only wizarding things." Hermione was surprised that Snape knew the Kendricks. Maybe she'd ask them about him when she met them again.

"Here you are" she said, placing a cup of Earl Gray and some chocolate cookies on the table next to Snape. She still felt a bit tense but this was certainly more comfortable than discussing her plan in the laboratory.

"So what would you like to ask me?" He had taken a few sips of tea, but still didn't seem to wholly relax. Well, she couldn't help that. But at least now he was reaching for a cookie – if Ron and Harry knew that she was entertaining the-bane-of-their-schooldays-Snape in her rooms with cookies… Hermione had to suppress a sudden giggle, took a sip of tea herself and answered: "You know, I think Sarah was quite right concerning the relationships between the houses. Lets face it, even though we all have to work together to fight Voldemort, and even though classes are taught together there're still great chasms between the houses."

Snape seemed interested. "That's certainly true, but how do you propose to change that? Sarah might have been successful for one year, but she couldn't affect any lasting changes."

Hermione sighed. "That's what's so infuriating about the wizarding world. Everyone sticks to the old ways, only because they have worked more or less well for the last hundreds of years. Even after Voldemort had been defeated for the first time there weren't any real changes. And here at Hogwarts it's the same, although everyone is aware that we have to stick together if we want to defeat him. I truly think it's time for some real changes if we want to win. I've thought about this a lot and I know it's quite radical, but perhaps it would be the best to abandon the Sorting Hat."

Snape raised one eyebrow in surprise. "Well, that certainly would be quite a change."

"I know – and I know that at the moment nobody would listen to me. But perhaps in a few years… You see, when the children wouldn't be sorted according to their characters or whatever it is right in the beginning, they'd be much more open to be friends with each other or at least to work together, don't you think? Even the sorting hat itself is critical about the procedure! Anyway, since I know the time isn't right yet, I want to start something else."

Snape looked at her and twitched his mouth in what might count as a faint smile. "So what's your plan?"

"You know, I think we could learn a lot from the muggles – don't frown, that's the reason why Dumbledore established the cooperation with St Andrews after all. Living in the muggle world full time once again showed me how ignorant and self-contained most of the wizards really are. Most of them couldn't survive out there, not to speak that they don't know what great things the muggles have invented. Have you ever worked with a computer, for example? Or used the internet or a cellphone? Or been to the cinema? There's so much out there and most of us don't have a clue."

"Well, I'm sure there are some great muggle-toys." Snape put in, not trying to hide a disdainful snarl. "I don't think however people would be pleased if Hogwarts were full of muggle-technology – and you know that it wouldn't work here, anyway."

"Well, I know you're right, and I know that this isn't likely to change, certainly not in the near future. But that's not what I'm thinking of right now. There're other things we might learn from the muggles."

"Which would be? I'm afraid I'm not keen on…."

Now it was Hermione's turn to take on a patronising air. These wizards were all the same, so sure of themselves and their own small world. It would really be funny to just throw him into real muggle-life for a few days… "Don't worry, you won't have to do anything. I was thinking about really basic activities which could help to create a feeling of unity. For example nearly every muggle school and university has a drama group…"

"I'm not acting."

He looked at her suspiciously and Hermione, quite enjoying his uncomfortableness, gave him a slightly mischievous smile. "If I remember correctly you told me that you rather liked it…"

His face froze for a few seconds and then took on a blank expression. Hermione silently cursed herself. Obviously she had gone too far, she only hoped that he didn't think she treated lightly what he had told her the night before.

"Don't worry," she said in a neutral voice, "I'm certainly not going to push you onto a stage. I was thinking about a student group with members from every house. However, I won't keep any of the teachers from it, if they want to participate."

The mask-like expression Snape had put on softened a little and he even reached for a new cookie. Hermione internally breathed a sigh of relief and went on: "You know, there're not only drama groups. The muggles also have orchestras and choirs…"

He nearly choked at his cookie. "I certainly will not sing!"

"What a shame. I'm sure you have a beautiful singing voice." Looking at the still coughing Snape, Hermione really quite enjoyed herself. "But here again you needn't worry. I think I'll ask Minerva if she'd like to conduct the choir. She plays the bagpipes, so she has to know something about music."

Snape looked doubtfully. "Have you ever heard her play?"

"Well, actually no…is it that bad?"

"Let's say that she sticks to the original function of the bagpipes, which was to frighten the enemy in battle."

"Oh…well, I'll ask her anyway. Or do you know someone else? I play the violin a bit but I don't think I know enough about music to really conduct a choir. How about you?"

Snape looked a bit uncomfortable. "Well, I used to play the cello, but I'm not keen on conducting. And anyway, do you think a lot of students would show up for the choir if they knew that I was conducting it?"

His voice sounded dispassionate but Hermione didn't know how to react to this true but rather bitter statement. "Well, so I'll stick to Minerva for the moment. Who knows, perhaps Trelawney has some hidden merits."

"Then they must be deeply hidden indeed. But all in all I like your ideas. They might actually work."

Hermione was relieved and smiled at him enthusiastically. "Do you really think so? These are only small things but I think in the long term they might really improve the situation. And we might also have mixed excursions, for one or several days, we could visit famous places and cities, and…"

"Going on vacations with students in the clutches of puberty?" Snape didn't seem enthusiastic. "And you always have to consider Voldemort. I'm sorry, but I'm afraid the excursions will have to wait until he's defeated."

He didn't look too disappointed but Hermione had to admit that he had a point there.

"You're right of course, but we can keep this in mind for later. Nevertheless, tomorrow I'll talk to Albus and Minerva about the choir and my other plans."

"I'm sure they'll love it. I only hope the students are responsive, too."

"Oh I think they will be. I guess they're happy for everything which gives them a break from worrying about Voldemort."

He snorted. "Do you think it's a good idea to pretend there's nothing to worry about?"

"No, certainly not. But I don't think that'll happen. It's just something to show them that there're other things as well. And if it helps to further the inter-house-unity it would be great, wouldn't it?"

_We too could need a bit of cheering up, couldn't we?_ Hermione thought, but didn't say so.

Snape didn't reply anything but looked at her intently for a few moments. Then he drank the rest of his tea, put the cup down and rose from his chair. "Since this is settled then I think I'll leave you now. I'm sure you could do with some sleep."

This was the only reference to the previous night he had made all day. Well, she certainly didn't want to be importunate. And their conversation had gone quite well.

"Definitely. Thanks for listening to me – and for rescuing Crookshanks, of course."

He nodded and Hermione thought that the corners of his mouth twitched in what she had learned to interpret as his type of smile. "You're welcome. If you want to, tell me how your talk with Albus and Minerva went."

Hermione hadn't expected such an invitation and gave him her most radiant smile. "I certainly will. Good night, Severus."

"Good night, Hermione."


	7. Potions and Chocolate

**Potions and chocolate**

When Hermione told Dumbledore and McGonagall about her plans they gave her their wholehearted consent. She decided to try to set up a drama group and a choir for the start and perhaps this would pave the way for more projects later on.

The beginning of school came sooner than she had expected, and one evening she found herself seated at the teacher's high table while in front of them the new students were sorted into the houses.

"Have I ever been that young?" she asked Lupin who was sitting next to her, indicating the first year students who were standing nervously in line in front of the Sorting Hat. They seemed incredible small and not at all capable to deal with magic.

Lupin smiled. "Trust me, you were. We're all getting old, aren't we?" He winked and they both returned their attention to the sorting ceremony. Hermione felt rather self-conscious since there were still several students who knew her from her days as a student. When they had spotted her whispers had broken out on all the four house tables.

When the hat had sorted the last new student, Dumbledore rose and the noise stopped immediately. "As most of you will already have noticed, we have a new face up here at the High Table. I am sure some of you remember Ms Hermione Granger, who has been one of the most distinguished students of Hogwarts. She has expressed the wish to become a teacher and therefore will be present in some of your courses and also teach you from time to time. We are very happy to have her here and I'd ask you to give her a hearty welcome."

When everybody started to clap Hermione felt glad as well as a bit embarrassed. A few days before, Dumbledore had talked to her about her teaching duties. She had selected the subjects she wanted to try to teach and had been assigned to one class for each subject. She would join these classes for several weeks, most of the time only sitting at the back, listening to the teacher, but also helping with practical demonstrations. Apart from that, she'd also teach three lessons in each class herself.

She'd chosen Charms, Transfiguration, Arithmancy, Potions and Ancient Runes, and the respective teachers had assigned her to a specific class. In Potions it would be the First Year Ravenclaw-Hufflepuff class. Hermione hadn't commented on it, and neither had Snape, but she hoped he didn't really doubt her abilities. She also suspected that he had taken care not to put her into the Slytherin-Gryffindor class. Perhaps he suspected that she'd be partial towards the Gryffindors or – and this was more realistic – would be angry if he favoured the Slytherins. Well, at least he hadn't refused her when she had asked to do Potions.

The next day she had her first lessons, Transfiguration in a sixth-year class and Charms in a third-year class. She knew most of the students in the first class at least fleetingly, but their as well as her own awkwardness about her new status soon disappeared. While she was sitting at the back, listening to McGonagall, she felt transported back to her own school days. A few times she nearly raised her hand to answer a question. She always caught herself in time, but noticed McGonagall smiling at her.

The first weeks went by in a rush, and while September and the beginning of October was still unusually warm, the wind increasingly carried the chill of autumn. With her new duties plus her work with the books from the secret vault, Hermione was rather busy. And there was also the Defence against the Dark Arts-training, which got more and more strenuous.

The choir, conducted by Madame Huch, and drama group, run by Flitwick, had been a success with the students. All together, nearly 70 students from all the houses were now engaged in both groups, and Hermione hoped that after a certain time they'd shed their house-related prejudices at least to a certain extent.

**...**

It was seven weeks after the beginning of term and Hermione had a bad day. The night before, she had unsuccessfully tried to translate an Old English potion recipe which had looked promising, but finally just didn't make any sense. When she had given up at half past one in the morning, she hadn't been able to sleep for hours, and when she had finally fallen asleep her dreams had been troubled. She'd woken up with a headache and a look out of her window showed her a rather bleak, cold and rainy morning. What a brilliant start for a day.

At breakfast she had got a message by owl telling her that her favourite great-aunt had died all of a sudden. And apart from all this her monthly report for Anistaphala was due the next day. So she wasn't in the best of moods when she sat down in the dungeon, waiting for the potions lesson to start.

It seemed that Snape hadn't slept well, either. During the last weeks Hermione had found him to be a very strict and sometimes cruel teacher, but not as extreme as she remembered him to be. Hermione had wondered if this was due to the fact that the class was made up of Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, or if it was her presence which restrained him. On this day, however, he was extremely irritable and made several cutting remarks which made the students as well as Hermione flinch. Once again she was quite glad that she wasn't his student anymore.

When he had told the students what he wanted them to do, they started brewing their potions while Snape prowled the aisles between the desks, criticising them with nasty remarks. Hermione was trying to help those who looked lost, but the problem was that they were so afraid of Snape that they could hardly concentrate. Hermione was helping a boy from Hufflepuff getting his ingredients in the right order, when suddenly there was a loud bang followed by dark blue smoke. When the smoke lifted she saw a small blonde Ravenclaw girl staring in shock at her still smoking cauldron, her face blue but without any serious injuries.

In the blink of an eye Snape was at her table. "Miss Ash, what do you think you are doing?" he said with a voice full of suppressed anger. Hermione winced. This was going to be bad. She got up without really noticing it, but didn't know what to do.

"I, I don't know….I thought I'd done everything right…I'm sorry, Professor." The small girl who Hermione knew was called Angelica was looking at him with eyes full of fear, but Snape wasn't moved at all.

"If you'd done it correctly it wouldn't have exploded. Ten points off from Ravenclaw!" He glared at her coldly while the rest of the Ravenclaws gasped in shock. "You probably put in ground beetle wings instead of bee wings" Her eyes grew big with realization. "Ah, I see. Miss Ash, let me tell you that you are no longer baking cookies in your mummy's kitchen, but dealing with dangerous stuff. This is the third time that you've blown up a potion, so if you are not intelligent enough to read simple formulas perhaps you should reconsider if you're up to studying at Hogwarts at all."

His voice had grown more and more contemptuous and cold, and Hermione felt a shiver run down her spine. After his last words the little girl started to cry, the tears leaving smears in the blue colour on her face, but Snape only gave a derogatory snort and turned towards his own desk.

Hermione felt anger flash up inside her. How could he do something like this? Did he enjoy hurting children, children who had never done him anything? Suddenly Angelica started to sob, ran towards the door of the laboratory and hurried outside. Without thinking Hermione made to follow her, catching a cold stare from Snape but only giving him a defiant look. When she closed the door behind her, she could still hear the girl's sobs along the corridor.

It wasn't hard to find her, she had only fled to the next lavatory. When Hermione came in, she heard loud sobs from the last stall. They were a bit stifled when she shut the door but obviously couldn't be suppressed entirely.

"Hello? Angelica?" Hermione said in what she hoped to be a soothing and encouraging voice. "It's me, Ms Granger – Hermione."

She waited for a few seconds but finally got only a rather tearful "Leave me alone!"

Sighing internally, Hermione leant against the stall opposite of the one occupied by Angelica, and got ready for a long conversation. "Sorry, but I won't. And believe me, I know very well how you feel – actually I felt quite similar when I was your age."

Silence, but the sobbing had lessened.

"I know that Professor Snape can be horrible and even cruel sometimes. But it's nothing personal, you just had the bad luck to get into his way. You know, when I was your age Prof. Snape treated me very much like he treated you today or even worse..."

"Really?" Angelica didn't seem convinced that he could be even more cruel.

"I swear. And he was even worse to Harry Potter."

Now the silence was definitely shocked. That someone could dare to be mean to the great hero of the wizarding world seemed to be unbelievable. Suddenly the door opened and the girl, her face red from crying where it wasn't still blue, stood in front of Hermione.

"I want to go home" she said in a small voice and Hermione felt a bit helpless what to do now. Finally she settled for the most important thing.

"Listen, before we do anything you have to wash your face – you're rather blue, you know…"

They went to the wash basins and tried to get off the blue colour, which took them lots of water and scrubbing and finally a cleaning spell. When Angelica looked normal again, Hermione said "I know that you want to go home right now, but that's not as easy as it seems. You're a witch and that means that you are very powerful. You have to learn how to use and control these powers, otherwise you might endanger yourself and other people."

The girl didn't seem convinced. "My mother didn't want me to come here…".

Hermione had an intuition. "Your parents are muggles?"

Angelica nodded.

"And you don't have any brothers or sisters?"

The girl nodded again. _That explains a lot_, Hermione thought. She led Angelica to the window and placed her on the sill, sitting down opposite of her. "You know, my parents are muggles, too." The girl looked interested. "When I got the letter from Hogwarts, they were very concerned, especially my mother. After all, this seemed to be just impossible."

Angelica nodded violently.

"But they soon realized that it was best for me to go where I could learn all about magic. At first everything here seemed very weird, but I grew accustomed to it. And you will as well, I promise. Your only real problem is Prof. Snape. I know it's hard, but you simply have to try to do your best in his classes and ignore him. And you can drop potions after your fifth year."

This didn't seem to comfort Angelica very much. "He is evil" she whispered, her eyes wide with fear.

Hermione shook her head. "I thought this too, for some time. But he isn't, not really. He has had some very hard experiences in the past, and that made him the way he is now. Just try not to let him get to you. He really treats everyone like this, it's not your fault.

Angelica still looked at Hermione wide eyed, but seemed a bit more composed. Suddenly she looked at her watch. "Transfiguration starts in 10 minutes – but I left my books in the laboratory…"

"I'll get them for you, just wait here."

Hermione left the lavatory and went to the class room. When she entered, Snape was still holding his lesson and gave her a rather cold stare, so she just fetched the girl's bag and left again. When she got back to the lavatory she tried to cheer Angelica up once again and told her to come to her if she had any problems. She only hoped that she had actually helped the girl.

After parting from Angelica Hermione went back to the laboratory, not at all looking forward to the confrontation which she was sure would await her. She found the laboratory empty apart from Snape, who seemed to be busy putting ingredients back onto shelves and only gave her a cursory glance when she entered.

"Did you hold her hand?" he asked sarcastically, looking intently at the jars in front of him.

"I tried to comfort her, yes." Hermione felt drawn and tired, her head hurt and she wasn't at all keen on becoming the focus of his anger, now Angelica had been removed. So she quickly went to her desk, collected her books and made ready to leave.

"It was silly for the girl to leave class – and for you to follow her."

Hermione, who had nearly reached the door, stopped in her stride. Anger flared up in her and she turned towards Snape who was still busy placing ingredients onto shelves.

"I don't think so." She tried to keep the anger out of her voice. Did he want to provoke her? "The girl – Angelica by the way – felt very bad and I tried to help her."

"Did you?" He had finally given up rearranging jars and was looking at her straight across the room, his voice full of sarcasm and suppressed anger. "And I bet you think that I was wrong to reprimand her. The great Ms Granger coming to the rescue…" His voice trailed off but he still gave her a very cold and somehow provoking stare.

Hermione felt irritated. For a split second she thought about just leaving, but then her anger won. "That's nonsense. I just wanted to help. The poor girl was really downcast and even wanted to leave Hogwarts."

"Not such a bad idea, I'd say" he snarled. "She's hopeless."

That was enough. Unable to longer suppress her anger and indignation, Hermione decided to strike back. "What's the matter with you? Such accidents happen all the time, you needn't have treated her like that."

With a few steps he breached the distance between them and was standing right in front of her, towering over her, his dark eyes burning angrily. "It's certainly none of your business how I treat my students, Miss Granger."

His icy voice and threatening look sent a shiver down her spine, but she stood her ground. If she gave in now he'd won and he'd think that she condoned his behaviour. But she wasn't a student anymore, this time he wouldn't get away with bullying someone who couldn't defend himself. Hermione felt all the old anger that had built up during so many years raise up in her. For a second she tried to control it, to be reasonable, but she couldn't. "I disagree. If I see that a student is mistreated it certainly is my duty to step in."

He looked daggers, but Hermione felt a wild kind of triumph. Finally she had the chance to get to him, to get a bit back of what she had endured all these years. It was an intoxicating feeling and although there was a small voice inside her head telling her that she should shut up, she couldn't. Keeping her voice as dispassionate as possible, she went on: "I don't know what's the matter with you. These children have never done anything to you. In a warped sense I might understand why you treated Harry, Ron, me and even Neville like you did – but there's no excuse whatsoever for how you treat them. Does it give you pleasure to harry them, to make them fear you? Does it make you feel better or more powerful? Don't you see that you only make them hate you – or do you want them to? Whatever it is, it's sick, and it's evil, it really is."

When Hermione stopped she felt her anger subsiding, leaving her wary and exhausted. Her hands were shaking but she was still staring into Snapes dark eyes, not willing or daring to break the contact. During her talk his face had contorted with rage and once Hermione had been sure that he was about to hit her, but he hadn't. He stared at her silently for a few seconds, then only hissed "get out" and turned. She grabbed her bag and left as soon as she could, her heart hammering.

Hermione went to her rooms where it took her some time, several glasses of cold water and a certain amount of pacing to get down again. Her head was spinning. Had she really said all this to Snape? She must have been mad. But she had been right, hadn't she? Yes, her consciousness agreed, but perhaps it might have been a better idea to be a little bit more diplomatic…? He was certainly mad with her now. But so what, he deserved it, didn't he? And she didn't care what he thought – or at least she shouldn't. And it really was high time that someone told him the truth. And she owed it to the students, and to Harry, Ron, and especially Neville. But had she perhaps only tried to get her revenge? No. She shook her head. Perhaps in a little way, yes, but she was absolutely sure that she'd done the right thing – perhaps a bit too much of it, but it was right.

So why was she feeling that bad?

The rest of the day went hardly better than the morning. Hermione's head still hurt like mad and she spent hours with the report for Elektra Anistaphala and the Old English potion recipe. She might have asked Snape for help, but after their fight she didn't want to think of meeting him again, much less talking to him. So she wasn't sorry that he didn't appear at lunch and dinner. Hermione also felt a little twinge of guilt, worrying that she might have been too hard with him, but she was still certain that she'd done the right thing. She certainly wouldn't crawl back to him asking for forgiveness, no, definitely not!

**...**

Hermione went to bed as soon as she had finished her work. When she woke up the next day, her headache was gone and she felt refreshed. She winced when she thought that she'd probably see Snape at breakfast, but that couldn't be helped. And it couldn't be worse than when she had come to Hogwarts in August, could it? She felt sorry that the tentative relationship she'd built up with him had probably suffered irreparable damage – it had been hard work, after all. But that couldn't be helped. _Time will tell_, she thought and tried to get the nagging worries out of her head.

She'd just finished putting on her clothes when someone knocked at her door. For a second she thought that it might be Snape, either coming to apologise or to strangle her, but then she told herself to be reasonable.

It was Dumbledore. He looked rather grave and Hermione immediately knew that something had happened.

"Hermione, I have to ask you a favour."

She had a bad feeling about this but only said "Sure, how can I help you?"

"I have to ask you to take over Severus's classes today."

He wouldn't have done anything to himself, would he? She surely hadn't been that harsh with him… "What's the matter with him?"

"Voldemort called him yesterday. He came back at sunrise and let's only say Voldemort was rather angry with him – or perhaps he wanted some fun, who knows."

"Oh, good Lord…" Hermione felt sick. "How is he?"

"Not well. But he's survived worse, he'll be fine again. So would you take over his classes?"

"Sure. Might I…do you think I could visit him?"

Dumbledore looked surprised. "Well I guess you could. But not too soon, he's sleeping right now. In the afternoon or evening perhaps. Ask Pomfrey."

"I will. Do you know what classes he has today?"

"I brought you a list. Thanks a lot, Hermione."

She gave him a crooked smile. "You're welcome. I only wished there were more I could do."

**...**

Hermione felt bad all day long. Perhaps Snape had known that he'd have to go to Voldemort and that might explain his behaviour. This still didn't excuse it, she told herself repeatedly, but it nevertheless made her feel sorry for him.

In the morning she had to teach four potions lessons and, in her own opinion, managed well enough on such short notice, basically just giving the students some interesting potions to brew. The students seemed rather happy to have her and there weren't any incidents.

After lunch she went to the infirmary, but Snape was still asleep. Hermione didn't really know why she wanted to see him – certainly noone, including him, expected her to. But somehow she knew that her consciousness wouldn't keep quiet if she didn't talk to him. Actually she didn't know what to tell Snape, either. She didn't want to apologise since she was still convinced that in principle she had been right. She just hoped that when she was standing face to face with him she'd know what to say.

Hermione had to teach only one lesson in the afternoon and thus spent the rest of her time working and reading. She also consumed an alarming amount of chocolate, a certain sign of how uncomfortable she felt. Over the last years, Hermione had discovered that chocolate had a soothing effect on her and apart from that she just simply liked it very much. Her parents, who were well aware of her addiction, had given her a large package containing a huge variety of mainly Swiss chocolate for her birthday. She'd given a few bars to Lupin, but kept the rest for emergencies of any kind.

It was still one hour till dinner but Hermione couldn't concentrate properly and already felt slightly sick from too much chocolate. Suddenly she decided that she'd try if Snape was awake now, and if he wasn't she'd take a walk outside. On an impulse she took a bar of chocolate with her, somehow having the dim idea that she should bring something to a get-well-visit.

When Madame Pomfrey told her that yes, Snape was awake now, Hermione realised that she had expected him to be still asleep. Now that she actually had to face him she suddenly felt rather anxious. But it was impossible to back out, so she stepped into the hospital room. She'd been in there often enough during her own school days and had an uncomfortable flashback to the time in her second year when she had partially transformed into a cat. The beds were all empty apart from the last one on the right side of the room. Outside it was already rather dusky and the infirmary was only dimly lit by a light at the door and one at Snape's bed.

He didn't look up when she entered, but lay there staring at the ceiling. His face was even paler than usually, his dark hair forming a stark contrast to the white pillow. Hermione saw a bandage on his left arm, but apart from this there were no injuries she could detect. She went to his bed hesitantly, and he abruptly jerked his head towards her and pulled himself up with his good arm, as if he had suddenly realised that the approaching steps didn't belong to anyone he expected. When he recognised her, Hermione thought that he looked rather surprised for a moment, but the light was so dim that she was not certain of it.

"What are you doing here?"

His voice was hoarse but didn't betray any emotion. In fact Hermione was asking herself the same question, but she definitely had to go through with it now. Standing at the foot of his bed, she suddenly was quite thankful for the dimness of the room.

"I…I just wanted to see how you were…and I brought you something…"

Hermione fingered in the folds of her gown and drew out the chocolate. She felt rather sheepish standing there with the chocolate in her hand and her mind was racing trying to find something suitable to say.

When he recognised what she was holding his eyes widened in surprise. "Chocolate?"

"Well, yes… I thought you might like it and Remus always uses it to further his recovery…"

He still looked at the chocolate quizzically, but finally turned towards her again. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Hermione put the chocolate on the small table next to him. An uncomfortable silence developed.

"I heard you took over my lessons. I hope it went well?"

Hermione nodded. "I didn't have any problems."

"I'll be back tomorrow."

Hermione looked at him doubtfully. "Don't worry, I can cover for you."

His mouth twisted into a bitter smile, but he was not looking at her but out into the falling night. "I am fine. I can assure you I've survived much worse meetings with the Dark Lord…" He paused, his eyes still fixed at a spot somewhere in the darkness beyond the window. "I guess I'll sleep now."

"Well." Hermione didn't like to be kicked out just like this, but on the other hand the conversation wasn't going too well. "Then I'll go now. Good night."

"Good night. I'll see you tomorrow."

Hermione turned to leave and had gone a few metres when she heard him clear his throat.

"Thank you for the chocolate."

She stopped, looked back and gave him a short nod: "I hope it works". Then, smiling to herself, she made her way through the dim room to the door. They hadn't touched on their fight at all, but it seemed that they were at least still able to have a civil if somewhat strained conversation. On reaching the exit Hermione turned back a last time before she left the room. Only then did Snape lower himself onto the bed again, his face and hair starkly silhouetted against the dimly lit bedclothes.


	8. Atonement

**Atonement**

Snape returned to his classes the next day. His arm was still in a sling but otherwise the Potions Master was his usual self again. Nothing much happened during the following weeks and Hermione spent her time divided between her work for Elektra Anistaphala and her teacher training.

November came and with it fog, rain and early darkness. The long stone corridors of the castle were draughty and cold and Hermione was always glad when she was back in her rooms and sitting in front of a roaring fire.

In the second week of November they had a meeting of the Order in Dumbledore's office, but all Dumbledore had to tell them was that they didn't know about any of Voldemort's activities. Snape hadn't been called again, and they all felt restless because of the lack of information. Their work with the books from the secret vault had not yielded anything out of the ordinary, either, and they were starting to wonder why they had been hidden in the first place.

After the meeting had ended, Hermione followed Snape. There was something she had wanted to ask him for some time now, and this was as good a moment as any. When he realized that she was following him he slowed down and waited for her to catch up, then started to briskly walk towards the dungeons again "Anything you want to ask me?"

"Yes" Hermione had to hurry to keep up with his long strides. "Severus, I was wondering... How much does Voldemort know about the books?"

He slowed down a bit. "You mean if I've told him about the vault?"

She nodded.

"I have", he replied. "Dumbledore told me to. Naturally the Dark Lord is very interested in the books, but all he knows is that we haven't found anything interesting yet. Which is the truth, at least for now." He smiled sardonically.

"And if we find anything interesting?" Hermione asked.

"I don't know yet", Snape replied. "That depends on what we find, and what Dumbledore tells me to do." There was an unpleasant snarl in his voice now, and not for the first time Hermione wondered how Snape felt about being subjected to Dumbledore's wishes and plans. He suddenly stopped and gave her a piercing glance "But you can be sure that I'd never willingly endanger Hogwarts."

Hermione looked straight into his dark eyes, surprised by the amount of emotion displayed there. "I know you wouldn't", she said softly.

**...**

A few days after their meeting, Neville got the message that his grandmother had died. True to her somewhat brisk way of treating her grandson, she hadn't told him about her fatal illness until it was nearly too late.

Hermione heard from McGonagall what had happened, and immediately set out for Neville's rooms. She found him gazing out into the bleak November morning, absentmindedly stroking his _Mimbulus mimbletonia_ which had grown to an impressive size and emitted slightly disconcerting crooning noises.

"I'm so sorry, Neville." Hermione said and hugged him, careful not to touch the plant.

"Thanks, Hermione." He looked very white and drawn, but tried to give her a smile. "I'll have to leave soon, to take care of the funeral and all of Grandma's stuff."

"Tell me when the funeral will be, will you? I'll be there, and I'll try to contact Ron and Harry."

"Thanks. Luna is coming, too." He fell silent, still stroking the plant. "You know", he finally said, "she certainly wasn't the world's most loving granny. Especially when I was younger and she thought I was hardly better than a squib. But in the last years we've really grown to like each other. And she was the only family I ever had."

Hermione gave him another hug, feeling rather helpless. "I know. I'm so sorry Neville. Just tell me if there's anything I can do, will you?"

Neville nodded. "I will. I'll see you at the funeral then."

**...**

Unfortunately Harry and Ron were busy in Rumania and thus couldn't attend the funeral. Surprisingly many people turned up, however, including Luna, most of the teachers and many members of the Order. Neville's parents also attended, but Hermione doubted if they understood what was going on. It was painful to see their small acts of childish kindness to their son who now was their legal guardian.

_It shouldn't have been like this_, Hermione thought furiously as she watched Neville lead his mother and father away from the grave. _His parents should be the ones to organize the funeral. The ones to look after Neville and to be proud of what he has achieved_. But she knew that the only likely alternative would have been for his parents to die right away. _Which probably would have been better_, she thought bitterly. Not for the first time she wondered what would have been if Voldemort had chosen Neville and not Harry.

**...**

On a Sunday afternoon two weeks later Hermione was sitting in one of her comfortable chairs, sipping cocoa and writing a letter to Harry, Crookshanks curled up on her lap. Outside it was already getting dark and rain was lashing against the windows. Suddenly her tranquillity was interrupted by a rap at her door.

"Come in" Hermione said, struggling out of her chair and putting the protesting cat down on the floor.

It was Snape, standing very upright in her doorframe but not entering. „Do you have a few minutes?"

Snape hadn't come to her rooms since August when they had talked about her plans for improving Hogwarts, so Hermione was rather surprised. After she had visited him in the hospital wing they had been back on civil terms again, but the only time they spent together was at work, at the meals or during the training sessions.

"Sure, come in. Would you like some cocoa?"

He closed the door carefully. "I don't want to keep you from your work."

"You aren't, I have to admit that I have hardly done anything today."

"Have you indeed? That's rather extraordinary."

Was he making fun of her? Hermione wasn't sure and looked at him rather suspiciously as he sat down in a chair opposite of hers. "Cookies?"

"Why not, thank you."

She put a few cookies in front of him, prepared the cocoa and waited for him to tell her why he'd come, but Snape stayed silent until she had given him a cup and sat down. He took a few sips, looked around her room and absentmindedly stroked Crookshanks, who had climbed onto his lap. Crookshanks's partiality for Snape always surprised Hermione, but since he was usually a very good judge of character she took it as a point in the Potions Master's favour. Finally Snape put the cup on the small table which was standing between them and looked straight at Hermione.

"I've come to tell you that it's possible I won't be able to teach tomorrow, and to ask if you'd be willing to take over, if necessary."

Hermione felt herself go tense. "Have you been called again?"

Snape inclined his head slightly, his dark eyes never leaving her face.

"You have to go tonight?"

"Yes."

"And you… and you think that he might hurt you again?" Somehow her throat felt dry.

His face betrayed no emotions. "It is quite possible, yes. He has not called me since the last time when I had to spend some time in the infirmary, and so I'm not sure what to expect. Not that you are ever certain with the Dark Lord." He broke the eye-contact and reached for his cup. "So would you be willing to take over in case I won't be able to teach? I'm afraid you won't know until tomorrow morning, but I wanted to give you warning."

"Oh, sure, I certainly can keep them occupied for a day – and more if needs be…" Somehow Hermione felt terribly helpless, helpless and disturbed by his cool detachment.

"Thank you very much." He emptied his cup, put it on the table, put down Crookshanks and got up. "I won't keep you any longer, thanks for the cocoa."

Surprised by this sudden good-bye, Hermione got up without thinking and said "Wait, Severus."

Snape halted and turned around, looking at her quizzically.

"I mean" Hermione didn't really know what to say, but somehow this didn't seem right. "I mean isn't there something else I could do for you? Or something else you want to tell me? You can't just come here, tell me you're probably going to be severely hurt in a few hours' time, and 'thank you for the cocoa', and just leave."

She felt rather idiotic, but was rewarded by something like surprise und uncertainty crossing Snape's face. Suddenly she realized what she had known all along, and what he himself was certainly aware of, too. "You may be killed, may you not?"

Snape wore his dispassionate mask again. "It is possible, yes, but not likely. The Dark Lord is still not sure if I'm not valuable to him, and apart from that he enjoys his time with me too much. I don't think he will kill me." Not yet. – He didn't say it but it must have crossed his mind as well as Hermione's.

"You can't just stop going to him, can you?"

"No. I might still learn something helpful for the Order."

"Even if he doesn't trust you anymore and tortures you?" She looked at him intently.

"Yes. Even if the Dark Lord is not sure if he can trust me, some of his followers do. I can still get valuable information."

"But you're risking your life."

"If necessary, yes. But I've been doing it for years now."

"Do you do it for the Order or for yourself?" He flinched, but immediately the familiar mask was back in place again.

"Does it matter?"

"No, I guess not."

Hermione felt weary. He was right, but she felt helpless and angry that he should be forced to do this. It was quite irrational, after all she'd known for years that he was risking his life spying for the Order. _But when I knew it before, he was just a teacher I neither knew well nor liked. And now he's become something like a friend_, _and that changes things._ Still holding his gaze, she said "I'm sorry, I know there's nothing you can do about it."

"No, there isn't."

"Just be careful, will you?"

He gave her a short nod. "As careful as I can be. If you see me at breakfast tomorrow, everything went fine."

"I'll keep my fingers crossed. Good luck then."

"Thank you. I'll see you tomorrow."

When Snape had left, Hermione went back to her chair. Her cocoa had gone cold but she hardly noticed it. Her mind was whirling, replaying the conversation that had just taken place. Why had he come to tell her? Just to make sure that she was prepared in case she had to take over his lessons? Or because she'd visited him after the last time?

She couldn't help admire him for what he did, constantly risking pain and even death. It was a dangerous and painful way of atoning for whatever he'd done in the past. But he obviously needed it, even if it might cost his life. The question only was what would be left to him if he ever stopped spying on Voldemort.


	9. Shall we dance?

**Shall we dance?**

When Hermione saw Snape sitting at the breakfast table the next morning, she felt a great wave of relief. He looked pale and tired but apart from that no worse than usual. When he looked up and caught her eyes she smiled at him, but he only inclined his head a little and that was all the acknowledgement he gave her of what had happened the night before.

November ended with grim and wet weather and everyone was relieved when December turned out much more pleasant, with clear, sunny days and occasional snowfall. The prospect of Christmas and holidays also seemed to improve everyone's mood – or at least nearly everyone's.

Hermione found out soon enough that Snape hated Christmas. And if there was anything he hated even more, it was the ball which would take place on the last evening before the Christmas holidays.

When Dumbledore, eyes sparkling and face beaming, announced the ball one evening during dinner, the students cheered, but Hermione felt Snape go rigid next to her. "You don't like dancing?" she asked teasingly, but all she got was an icy "No, certainly not! I must wonder at Albus's decision to have something so frivolous in times like these." For the rest of the dinner and the next few days he was in a foul temper, snarling at everyone who happened to mention Christmas or the ball and taking house points off at random. Hermione thought sarcastically that she wouldn't be surprised if she caught him mumbling "Humbug, humbug!"

Well, if Snape wanted to be grumpy she couldn't help it, but it certainly wouldn't stop her from having a good time at the ball. Some months ago she'd bought beautiful silk dressing robes dyed in a luminous burgundy, and although there weren't many men to impress and flirt with, at least Neville and Lupin were decent dancers. Hermione definitely planned to enjoy herself.

All throughout the castle one could feel excitement building up during the last days before the great event. Hermione observed several male students asking female students to the ball, which made her remember her first ball and what fools Ron and Harry had been. The look on their faces when they had spotted her with Viktor was still one of her fondest memories.

She was sure that Snape would have preferred to spend the evening in his rooms, but Dumbledore made it clear that he expected everyone to show up. Hermione even thought that she saw him throwing a mischievous glance at Snape when he told them.

Unlike the Yule Ball in Hermione's fourth year, this ball would be for all the students, but the younger ones would have to leave at 10 pm. The afternoon before the ball, Hogwarts was buzzing with excitement. After an early dinner the great castle was unusually empty as everyone was preparing in their rooms. Hermione spent an absurd long time in her bathroom, trying out different hairdos and finally settling for a loose bun in the neck with a few loose curly strands of hair framing her face. She applied a bit of makeup and finally stood in front of the mirror scrutinising herself critically. No, she didn't look bad at all – actually quite good. Feeling the characteristic mixture of excitement and worry she always experienced when dressing up like that, Hermione left her rooms to go to Dumbledore's office to which the teachers had been invited to wine and cheese.

On the way she met Lupin who was wearing a robe in midnight blue and was looking quite blooming for his standards.

"Hello Hermione! You look great, the colour really suits you."

Hermione beamed. "Thanks, but you look very well, too. Looking forward to the ball?"

He gave her a slightly twisted smile.

"Actually yes. I'm feeling quite well at the moment, so I should make the best of it. Are you going to dance?"

"Definitely. Are you asking me for a dance?"

"If you don't mind me trampling on your feet I'd be delighted."

He offered her his arm in an exaggerated fashion and she accepted graciously. When they arrived at the entrance to Dumbledore's office they saw Snape and McGonagall coming from the opposite direction. McGonagall was wearing robes in dark green with a tartan sash. But what made Hermione stifle a gasp was that she had literally let her hair down – the first time ever Hermione saw her with something other than the usual tight bun or at least a hairnet. Now long strands of black hair mingled with streaks of grey and white were falling over her back. Lupin was as surprised as Hermione and, stepping forward, took McGonagall's hand and gave it a swift kiss, which made her look rather flustered: "Minerva, what a pleasant sight for my sore eyes. You should definitely reconsider your usual hairstyle."

McGonagall actually blushed and seemed quite pleased with Lupin's comment. "Well, you know, I only did it because I lost a bet to Albus…but who knows…"

Snape, who was wearing shiny and expensive looking robes in his customary black, had a sour expression on his face. He had frowned when he had seen Hermione holding on to Lupin's arm, but now all he gave them was a short nod. "Well, let's go and get it over" he said, his bored voice showing clearly how enthusiastic he was. When he turned to face the entrance the other three shot each others exasperated glances.

Getting up the spiralling staircase and into Dumbledore's room, they were surprised to see Sybill Trelawney with the rest of the staff. Usually she never took part in events like this, but now she was standing there, clad in a robe of shocking pink with a great amount of rings and necklaces, and talking animatedly to Madame Hooch who didn't look too happy. Trelawney only stopped talking when Dumbledore cleared his throat audibly.

"Welcome my dear friends and thank you for coming. I hope you're all looking forward to the ball as much as I am." He beamed at them, giving an especially dazzling smile to Snape, and gestured to a table laid with different kinds of cheeses and bottles of wine. "Tuck in, it's all excellent and will get you in the right mood. And Minerva" winking at McGonagall "you're looking more lovely than ever. Actually very much like when we first met… Please reserve your first two dances for me." McGonagall blushed visibly and Hermione tried hard to hide a huge grin. Not for the first time she wondered if Dumbledore and McGonagall were more than just colleagues and friends.

They all helped themselves to some wine and cheese and gathered in groups, Hermione talking to Lupin and McGonagall who kept touching her hair in a self-conscious way. Snape was standing alone, nipping at a glass of red wine and looking intently at some of the objects in the office, showing everyone that he wasn't keen on talking. Hermione felt slightly irritated, not certain if she should go to him and try to make him join their group. His behaviour was really ridiculous, he acted like a cross child wanting to show everyone that he didn't enjoy himself. Well, she'd give it one try, if only to quieten her consciousness.

"I'll just go over to Severus. Perhaps he'd like to join us." McGonagall and Lupin gave her a knowing glance. "Well, good luck then" McGonagall sighed. "It's always the same with him and balls."

When Hermione walked over to Snape he seemed to be absolutely absorbed in looking at an ancient muggle sextant and ignored her completely.

"Severus."

He turned towards her, looking irritable. "Hermione." His voice clearly signalled "go away". This was not going well.

"We are having a rather interesting discussion." She pointed to Lupin and McGonagall. "And we were wondering if you would like to join us."

She looked at him expectantly, but he just gave her a cold stare. "No, thanks. Since I have to spend my whole evening with a crowd of more or less drunk and hormone-crazed people I'm glad for every moment of solitude."

Hermione was taken aback by his harsh reply. Some of the pictures of headmasters behind Snape's back rolled their eyes and winked at her, but that didn't lessen her irritation with the man in front of her. So that was what she got for trying to be nice to him! Her sympathy was obviously wasted. If he wanted to sulk he could do it as long as he wanted, she certainly wouldn't feel sorry for him anymore.

She would have loved to tell him how silly his behaviour was, but certainly couldn't do so in front of their colleagues. So Hermione just drew herself up, glad for the high-heeled shoes she'd chosen, gave him a haughty stare and replied with a voice as cold as his: "Well, then I hope you're enjoying yourself on your own" and went back to Lupin and McGonagall.

They received her with knowing looks and sympathetic comments. "It was nice of you to try," Lupin said, "but even as a student he hated balls and tried to make everyone miserable. Just let him sulk on his own."

Hermione nodded and soon they were laughing again. The wine obviously had an animating effect on the teachers, as Hermione noticed when she was looking around. Several of them had rather glowing cheeks and loud laughter was erupting everywhere. Hermione just hoped that they wouldn't get too drunk before the ball began.

Snape was still trying to ignore everyone else by looking at pictures and objects in an absorbed way, but suddenly Hermione noticed that Trelawney – of all people – was gliding in his direction. She stood at his side for a few moments without him acknowledging her presence and finally cleared her throat audibly.

"Severus, my dear" she fluted. He visibly flinched at this address and slowly turned towards her, glowering at her with a glance that would have reduced Neville to a shivering wreck. Hermione couldn't help looking at the pair, curious how this would end. McGonagall and Lupin, who had followed her gaze, were grinning mischievously.

"Yes, Sybill?" Snapes voice was cutting and icy, but Trelawney didn't seem to be daunted by this.

"You know why I came to this ball?"

He looked daggers. "No, I don't. And frankly it doesn't interest me."

He turned away from her, obviously thinking that this should have been harsh enough to drive her off. But Trelawney didn't seem to care and even touched his sleeve to make him listen again. Snape jerked his arm away, turned around and stared at her, looking as if he'd liked to strangle her very much. Trelawney however only let out a light laugh and smiled at him in what was obviously meant to be a winning way.

"Oh Severus, Severus. Just today I saw in the crystalline depths of my orb that I'd be dancing with you. And of course I have to obey fate." She beat her eyelashes in a coquettish way.

Snape looked thunderstruck. For a few moments he was visibly at a loss what to do, but finally he just said "I certainly won't dance", turned around and left the office. This didn't disturb Trelawney, however. She shouted "you can't fight fate" and, still smiling, turned towards the table with the food.

Hermione, Lupin and McGonagall had suppressed their laughter as long as Snape had been in the room, but now burst out loud. McGonagall had tears streaming down her face. "Merlin, this is great." She said. "I can predict – and even without a crystal ball – that we'll have a very entertaining ball. Just the thought of Sybill chasing after him!" She was reduced to helpless laughter again, but Lupin didn't seem convinced: "Do you really think he'll turn up after this?" McGonagall, still giggling like a young girl, gave them a broad grin. "O yes, Albus will see to it. I'm sure he's observed the two as well and will think it too much fun to miss."

**...**

It was a great ball. The hall, which had been splendidly decorated with silver panels and fake snow, was dazzling with light and filled with rousing music and the excited voices of students and teachers. Hermione enjoyed herself thoroughly, dancing till she could hardly walk anymore with Lupin, Neville, Hagrid, Dumbeldore and a tall 7th year student from Gryffindor who blushed violently when he asked her. She had only a few glances of Snape who seemed to prefer prowling the corridors and grounds just outside the hall, avoiding Prof. Trelawney who was looking for him all the time. Probably due to the wine most of the teachers had shed their usual authoritative bearing and had a great time with the students.

Hermione had just danced a highly complicated tango with Lupin, cheered on by a circle of students and teachers, and now felt rather hot and exhausted. She got some fruit juice and left the hall through a small door which led out onto the grounds to sit on one of the banks at the castle walls. The night was surprisingly mild for December, but she knew that as soon as she had cooled down it would become uncomfortable. Until then however she was happy just to sit there, listen to the muffled music from the hall and gaze into the dark and peaceful night.

"That was quite impressive."

Hermione turned to her left, were Snape had emerged from the shadows, silent like a cat.

"May I join you?"

She nodded, curious if he had shed his grumpiness after all, and Snape sat down beside her.

"I wasn't aware you were watching." She said, looking at him searchingly. He still looked rather forbidding, but not as aggressive as before.

"I did, through the windows. I didn't know Lupin was such a good dancer – well, perhaps it's his animal grace…"

There was a definite sneer in his voice, but Hermione decided not to respond to it.

"You seem to enjoy yourself." There was the sneer again, and Hermione began to wonder why he had started this conversation in the first place. To insult her and provoke a quarrel? Or did he want some companionship after all, but was unable to say so?"

"Yes, I am. It's a great ball." She hesitated. "Actually, I can't understand why you're so negative about it." Her voice trailed off and she scrutinised his face for a reaction.

His mouth twisted into a wry smile. "Really? You think I am keen on dancing with Trelawney?"

She couldn't help giggling and he looked rather annoyed.

"Well, fair enough. But you were acting like a sulking boy even before that."

His frown deepened and his gaze grew cold.

"You know what" she said, ignoring his threatening stare. "You should read more Jane Austen."

"What?" This had obviously caught him as a surprise. "I don't see how silly stories about women hunting for husbands could help me here."

Hermione gave him an exasperated look. "You'd be surprised. Have you ever read one of her novels?"

"Certainly not!" He looked appalled.

"Men!" Hermione sighed. "Then you definitely shouldn't dare to judge them. Anyway, what I'm getting at is that they'd teach you to take life with irony. Just look at your problem with Trelawney. You wouldn't be so annoyed about it if you could see it from a distanced and ironic perspective – it really is very funny, you know."

He didn't seem convinced and only snarled "I'm not keen on being the laughing stock of my colleagues", looking at her rather darkly.

"Oh Severus!" Hermione sighed exasperatedly. "All right. I tried to cheer you up and help you make the best of this ball. But you obviously don't want to, you prefer to sulk and be annoyed. Fair enough! I certainly won't impose myself on you, and so now I'll go back and enjoy myself – it's getting cold anyway. So have a nice time sulking in the dark."

She got up, relishing the stupefied look on Snape's face, and made for the door back into the hall. When she was nearly there, however, she suddenly heard swift steps approaching the bank were Snape was still sitting.

"Severus, Severus, dear!"

Hermione turned and saw Trelawney rushing at Snape, beads dangling and eyes glittering triumphantly behind the large glasses. After a few shocked moments he jumped to his feet. But it was too late, Trelawney already stood right in front of him.

Hermione considered if she should leave the two alone, but this was definitely too good to miss. So she remained right next to the door and tried to look uninvolved.

"Oh Severus, where have you been all the time? I was looking for you everywhere, you sly old cat." He gazed at her dumbfounded while she was winking coquettishly. "But now I've got you and we'll dance, just like fate has shown me we would." She grabbed his arm, smiling broadly, and started to drag him towards Hermione. Snape however, visibly regaining his senses again, jerked his arm away and glowered at her darkly.

"I certainly won't dance!"

"Nonsense!" Trelawney brushed his rejection away. "Of course you'll dance with me, I saw it."

"Oh no, I – er – I can't." He was looking quite exasperated now.

"But why not, Severus, dear?" He winced visibly.

"Yes why not, Severus? I happen to know that you can dance rather well."

Hermione, who was watching the scene with great enjoyment, turned towards the newcomer. It was Dumbledore, who had just stepped through the door from the hall and was looking at Snape and Trelawney with visible mirth.

"Go on, Severus, don't let poor Sybill stand there in the cold." Dumbledore had a huge grin on his face which got even broader when Snape gave him a very angry look.

"I definitely won't dance with her, because…" he was searching for an excuse, his eyes darting around and finally settling on Hermione. "…because I have already promised Hermione that I'd dance with her for the rest of the evening."

Trelawney looked at Snape and Hermione suspiciously, visibly offended. "Is this true?" she asked accusingly, and Hermione, who felt slightly overrun, took a few moments to decide what to do. She could just deny it, but one glance at Snape and the hunted look in his eyes convinced her.

"Well, yes, it is. I'm really sorry, but I'm sure that Severus could…"

But Snape cut her off, grabbed her arm and turned towards the hall. "Sorry, Sybill, but as you see I'm engaged. Perhaps at the next ball…"

Trelawney was definitively angry now. "Well, you'll see what you'll get when you cross fate – I certainly won't take responsibility for it!" She dramatically threw one of her long scarves over her shoulder, turned and stalked off into the dark. As soon as she was out of sight, Dumbledore broke into loud laughter, joined after a few seconds by Hermione.

"Well, Severus", he beamed at the still scowling Snape, "that was a close shave indeed. You're lucky that Hermione played along. But now" he opened the door and gestured towards the hall "I'm looking forward to see you dance – I haven't had that pleasure for years."

Snape frowned. "You certainly aren't expecting that I'll really spend the rest of the evening dancing!"

Dumbledore gave him a dazzling smile. "But certainly, Severus. Otherwise Sybill would be even more offended. But please, be nice to Hermione. After all, she has to spend the rest of the evening with you."

Snape glowered at Dumbledore in silence, but after a few moments he offered Hermione his arm and led her into the hall. A quick look at her watch told her that it was nearly eleven, and since the ball would last till midnight it looked as if she had to spend over an hour with him. Well – she sighed internally – her good deed for the day.

The band was playing a fast waltz and after standing very still for a few moments Snape took her hand and started dancing. He was better than she had expected, a bit stiff at first, but that lessened after a few minutes. Looking around, she saw that the students and teachers who spotted them looked rather surprised and started to whisper and giggle. Hermione tried to give them a self-assured smile. If Ron could see her now he'd probably have a heart attack!

Snape still wore a stony face, but Hermione thought that his anger had ebbed away. He didn't say anything, which made Hermione feel a bit uneasy at first, but finally she relaxed and enjoyed the dancing.

When the waltz had ended Snape led her to the edge of the dance floor and looked around, clearly not keen on going on dancing. But then he spotted Trelawney standing across the room and immediately drew Hermione into the next dance. She couldn't help beaming at him in a mischievous way, and after looking at her rather darkly for a few seconds she thought that she saw something like suppressed laughter twitching the corners of his mouth. Trelawney kept observing them for the rest of the ball, which meant that Snape didn't dare to stop dancing. Although he was still rather quiet and they didn't exchange more than a few words it was more fun than Hermione had expected. When she finally heard the clock strike twelve and the music stopped playing she was surprised that the time had passed so quickly.

They stood facing each other and Hermione suddenly felt how much her feet hurt. "Well, I definitely have to sit down now" she said, giving him a slightly anguished smile. "Thanks for dancing with me after all – even if it wasn't completely voluntarily."

Snape was looking at her in an unfathomable way which made her wonder if she had said something wrong, but then he lowered his head in a short bow and offered her his arm. "No, it was a pleasure. I have to thank you for saving me from Sybill."

Avoiding Trelawney, who was still shooting them angry glances, he led Hermione to the edge of the dance floor where they were met by McGonagall and Lupin, both smiling broadly at them.

"Gosh Severus, I never suspected that you are such an avid dancer", Lupin teased him. "But it's a shame that you had Hermione engaged for so long, when I was standing here on my own and poor Sybill was so keen on having a go with you…"

Snape gave him a rather haughty look. "I can assure you, Remus, that at the next ball you'll have the pleasure of Miss Granger's undivided attention once again. But I have to point out that she certainly didn't complain to me. Good night."

And with this he swished out of the next door, leaving them all with large grins on their faces.

When Hermione was back in her rooms again, massaging her sore feet and thinking back to the evening, she felt tired but thoroughly content. And when she thought of Trelawney and Snape, she burst into an uncontrollable fit of giggles and laughed for several minutes until she finally sunk into her bed, exhausted but smiling.


	10. Shattered

**Shattered**

On Friday before Christmas Hermione left Hogwarts for London where she would stay with her muggle-friend Christine and go Christmas shopping. On Saturday evening she would return to Hogwarts and spend Christmas there, since her parents were visiting relatives in Australia. Hermione had already bought most of her presents but the last weeks had been so busy that now – like every year, really – she had to throw herself into the final-weekend-before-Christmas-shopping-frenzy. She still needed something for Neville, Lupin and Harry, and planned to go to Diagon Ally first thing on Saturday before turning to London's muggle shops later on.

Presents. This year they had been even more work than usually since now she also had to think of all her colleagues. Lupin had told Hermione that she wasn't obliged to give presents to anyone. It was custom for the teachers however to give each others small inexpensive gifts. The only exception was Snape, who flatly declined participating in what he called the Christmas-travesty. Nevertheless, Hermione wanted to get something for him to thank him for his help with her work for Elektra Anistaphala. She just didn't know what to give him so that he wouldn't feel awkward and obliged or even suspect her of trying to trick him into getting a present for her. It wasn't easy to find a not-too-presenty-but-still-nice-present for him, and after much pondering Hermione finally decided to buy him an orchid. It would brighten up his rooms, didn't require much care and she was sure that even he would appreciate a nice flower.

Hermione didn't meet anyone on her way out into the grounds to a place from where she could apparate. It was strange how empty and quiet Hogwarts was now most of the students had left for home. Striding through the snow, she enjoyed the cold and crisp air and waved at Hagrid who was working in front of his hut. When she arrived outside the perimeter of the anti-apparition wards, she gave a last look to the great castle, concentrated and disapparated.

**...**

"So how is life as a teacher?"

It was Friday night and Hermione was sitting in a comfortable chair in Christine's small flat, cradling a glass with red wine in her hands. She'd met Christine in an English Literature course in her first year at university, and over the years they'd grown very good friends. Since she hadn't had any close female friends at Hogwarts, this had been a new experience for Hermione. Christine was also one of the few muggles who knew that Hermione wasn't merely teaching at a posh public school.

"I like it. It's quite demanding at times, but overall I enjoy myself. The salary is good and there are tons of books to read."

Christine, a tall blonde with a dazzling smile, gave her a shrewd look.

"Sounds good, but isn't your social life a bit restricted? – To put it mildly, since you're stuck in the middle of nowhere without any clubs or cinemas around. There's no male teacher in your age category, is there…?"

Hermione shook her head. "Well, there's Neville. But he has a girlfriend and we're just very good friends. And apart from him all the other teachers are much older than me. I have to admit that that's a slight drawback…"

"Aha!"

"No, not from a love-interest point of view, but somehow I'm caught in the middle, between the students and the teachers. Even the two youngest of them, Remus and Severus, are about 20 years older than I am." She took a sip of her wine. "Would you like to see some pictures?"

Christine's eyes lit up. "Definitely, I'm terribly curious."

When Hermione showed her some moving wizard pictures, Christine was visibly impressed. "Wow, that's great. To think that all this exists right under our eyes and we never notice! So these are your colleagues?"

They had come to a staff group photograph. Hermione nodded, pointing out the different teachers to her friend. Christine scrutinised the picture critically, finally pointing at Lupin and Snape.

"So these two are the only not-too-old eligible bachelors around? Well, that's not too bad, is it? Do you have other photos of them?"

To think of both Lupin and Snape as eligible bachelors made Hermione smile but she complied and dug out some other pictures. Christine made a big show of scrutinising them, smiling at Hermione mischievously, and finally proclaimed, "Well, it's a shame that you're stuck in the middle of Scotland with only two decent men around, but they've got potential. Why don't you hook up with one of them?"

Hermione, who was just taking a sip of wine, nearly choked and had to cough before she was able to respond. "Christine! I'm certainly not going to start an affair with either Remus or Severus – the thought of it!" She giggled but Christine looked at her with mock gravity.

"But you won't tell me that you've never thought about it... come on, confess!"

"Well…" Hermione was reminded of similar talks they'd had at St Andrews – Christine was definitely the best person to discuss men with. "Well, of course the thought has crossed my mind… I mean, come to think of it, it's equally bad for them, there aren't that many eligible women around." Curiously, she'd never thought of this before. It made her feel a bit quizzical. What did she actually know about her colleagues' love life? As far as she knew none of them was married or had any kind of relationship – were they a bunch of lonely old bachelors? Or perhaps she just didn't know yet? Who knew what was going on between Dumbledore and McGonagall, or if Flitwick didn't have a lover in Hogsmeade…

Hermione giggled and Christine smiled sardonically. "This is getting better and better…"

"No", Hermione cut in, "I really like Lupin, but I don't feel attracted to him in that way. And besides, he's a werewolf…"

"Really!" Christine was intrigued and looked at the photos again. "That sounds quite interesting, doesn't it?"

"Christine! I'm shocked."

"Well, you don't have to marry him, do you? You could just have a bit fun…"

Hermione shook her head. "No. You know I'm not that kind of person. Perhaps I'm just too frightened, but it wouldn't be fair to start something which I wouldn't take seriously. And besides, there's someone I know who likes him a lot, and who certainly wouldn't be happy if I made any moves – moreover, I don't think Remus would be interested in the first place."

Christine sighed. "So what about the other guy? He looks quite forbidding, but you always had a soft spot for the dark Byronic-hero-type...

Hermione took a long sip, playing for time since she really didn't know what to tell her friend, who was eyeing her intently.

"Well… I like him."

"Ahaaa?"

"I have to admit that I'm a bit fascinated by him."

"Good God! Do you have a crush on him?"

"No, definitely not!" Hermione shook her head violently. "No, nothing of this sort. He's just very interesting, and also touching and sad in a way…"

"Oh no, the Florence-Nightingale-syndrome."

Hermione gave her a rueful smile. It felt good to finally be able to talk about Snape and her thoughts and feelings about him to an uninvolved outsider. "Well, perhaps a bit. There's attraction there, but I honestly don't know if I wanted a relationship with him. He was my teacher, after all, and one of my least-favourite. He really was a nasty bastard most of the time. And Severus is quite complicated – he's been one of Voldemort's followers, but than turned against him. So there're some unsettling things in his past he struggles to cope with. And he's very guarded and lets nobody come too close."

"So he's a challenge?"

"Hm, perhaps in a way. But I certainly don't want to seduce it." Hermione had to giggle again. "No, I just like him and want him to open up a bit. He's suffered enough all these years, and it would be good for him as well as for his poor students if he'd shed his defence-systems at least a bit."

"You mean he only needs a good shag?" Christine was grinning.

"Christine! I'm shocked!" Hermione felt herself blush and her friend was smiling mischievously.

"So your interest in him is without any selfish motives? You're practically Mother Theresa?"

Hermione gave her a sarcastic smile. "Oh yes. Hermione Granger, helper of the poor and repressed."

Christine looked at her searchingly. "Well, I'm very curious how this'll end. You have to keep me posted."

"I certainly will. And if I get too desperate for male company I can always come around and let you set me up with someone."

**...**

It was Saturday evening when Hermione apparated back to Hogwarts. So far up north it was already rather dark, but the snow reflected the light of the moon and gave the great castle a fairy-tale quality. She felt herself strangely elated and eager to meet the others – it was good to be back again.

Hurrying through the cold, Hermione was grateful for the ability to shrink the size of all the presents she had bought. Her shopping expedition on Saturday had been exhausting but successful, and she was rather pleased with her acquisitions, especially with the beautiful white-yellow orchid she had got for Snape.

Entering the silent castle, Hermione was reminded of a sleeping animal. She didn't meet anyone on the way to her rooms, but when she turned the last corner to her door, she found Neville pacing in front of it. As soon as he had spotted her, he hurried towards her, threw his arms around her and held her tightly. "Hermione, I'm so glad you're all right." Hermione was so astonished that it took her a few moments to process what was happening. But when Neville finally loosened his grip a bit and looked at her intently, she noticed the traces of worry on his face and felt a chill creeping over her. "Neville, what has happened?"

He was visibly shaken and drew a large breath. "This morning at half past eleven two bombs blew up in Diagon Ally. There've been over a hundred dead, many more wounded."

"Oh God." Hermione grew very cold, shaking her head in disbelief. "Voldemort?"

"Who else? It were muggle bombs but the Dark Mark got up. They haven't yet identified most of the victims, and since we knew that you'd be there and didn't hear from you afterwards…"

"I see…you thought I was one of the victims?"

He nodded. "But I still hoped that you might just turn up well, so I waited for you."

Feeling a wave of affection for Neville, Hermione gave him a crooked smile. She felt shocked and unconsciously ran her fingers through her hair and bit her under lip, sure signs of how nervous she was. Her hands were shaking. "I was there really early and afterwards went to some muggle shops. I spent the rest of the day with a muggle friend, so I didn't hear anything."

Neville nodded. "I had hoped for something like this."

Looking at his drawn face, Hermione suddenly held her breath. "Neville, do we know any of the victims?"

He hesitated. "Most of them haven't been identified yet. But it was very crowded, the Christmas shopping, you know, so some students might have been hit. And" his voice caught, "one of the bombs exploded just in front of Fred and George's store. They're dead."

An inhuman moan escaped Hermione, so strange she could hardly believe she had made it. The world seemed to reel for a few seconds, and Neville caught her arm to steady her.

"No, Neville, not Fred and George." Her voice was hoarse and she felt cold, so cold. Neville just took her in his arms again, and Hermione was grateful for his warmth and presence, her body shaking with silent and tearless anguish. When she had finally calmed down again and pulled back there were tears on his cheeks. "Thank you." She gave him a crooked smile while he blushed rather self-consciously. "You're a real friend, you know?"

He smiled sadly at her. "I'm just glad you're all right. I don't know what Ron would have done if..."

With a stab Hermione thought of Ron and his family. She couldn't imagine how they must suffer now.

"Listen, Hermione", Neville said, "we should go to the teachers' Common Room. Everyone is assembled there, and they're really worried about you."

Hermione nodded and after she had deposited her things in her room she and Neville hurried through the empty and silent corridors towards the Common Room. When they opened the door, they found it packed with teachers and the few students who stayed at Hogwarts for the holidays. It was as if they had all huddled together for each other's company. Some of them were talking, some just sitting silently in a corner, staring into nothingness.

When Neville and Hermione entered, several people cried out in relief, and Hermione was immediately surrounded by Dumbledore, McGonagall, Hagrid and Lupin. The latter drew her into a tight embrace, Hagrid padded her shoulder something painfully and McGonagall took her hand, as if to check that she was real.

"We're so glad you're well, we were so worried" Lupin said, his voice full of emotion.

Hermione tried to smile at him. "I'm so sorry, I was with a muggle friend and didn't know about the bombing until I met Neville."

"Have you heard about Fred and George?" Lupin asked with an unsteady voice. On hearing their names, Hagrid's eyes began to spurt tears and he turned towards one of the windows, took out a large handkerchief and started to sob into it.

Hermione only nodded, tears burning in her eyes.

Lupin looked very sad and wary. "I'll inform Harry and Ron, you can imagine how worried they are." And he went towards the fireplace and the floo powder.

In a corner of the room Hermione suddenly saw Snape, surrounded by the few Slytherins who had stayed. He had risen from the chair in which he had sat, and was looking at her intently, but didn't come towards her. She met his dark eyes, suddenly feeling strangely muffled and removed from her surroundings, until Lupin's voice brought her back into reality.

"Harry, Ron and the rest of the Weasleys are very happy to hear that you're unharmed."

Hermione turned towards him. "How are they taking it."

Lupin shook his head sadly. "I think Ron is still in shock. He's very quiet, as if it were a dream he doesn't understand. Harry is taking care of him and Ginny. Mrs Weasley" he hesitated "well, she's beside herself with grief, they had to give her a calming potion."

Hermione again felt tears prickling in her eyes and didn't trust herself to say anything, but only nodded at Lupin. She suddenly thought of the happy weekend she had had and how easily the joy and feeling of security had been shattered from one moment to another. But why had Voldemort used muggle bombs? Her mind started analysing what had happened, glad to have something to keep her from thinking about the twins and all the others who had died.

"What are we going to do now?" she finally asked, turning towards Lupin, Dumbledore and Neville who had been talking about the implications of the attacks.

"For tonight there is not much to do, I'm afraid." Dumbledore answered. "The security of our students is our prime concern, of course. So we had them all move to Gryffindor tower, to better guard them, and when they go to bed we'll patrol the corridors."

Hermione nodded her agreement. "Count me in, I want to help."

"Thanks, Minerva will give you the details. Tomorrow afternoon, when hopefully we have more information, we'll meet in my office to discuss our further strategy."

**...**

They sent the students to sleep at 10 pm. Hermione was in the first shift to patrol the corridors until 3 am, together with Neville, Lupin, Sprout and Snape. To cover more ground, they would patrol on their own. As soon as they'd spot something suspicious, they'd perform a spell which would create a loud commotion, so as to alert everyone in the castle that something was wrong. To prevent them from mistaking each other for intruders, Dumbledore placed a spell on them which would produce a feeling of comforting warmth in their chest as soon as they got close to each other.

Patrolling the dark and empty corridors, wand at the ready, had a surreal quality. Hermione was reminded of all the times she had been out at night, most often hidden under the invisibility coat with Ron and Harry.

Ron… Her heart ached for him. Although a more intimate relationship with Ron had not worked out, he and Harry were still like brothers to her, and Ron's loss and pain touched her deeply. She would try to go and visit him the next day.

Walking through the corridors, Hermione was reminded of her second year, when the teachers had patrolled through through castle to guard them from the monster in the Chamber of secrets. Well, they hadn't been able to protect her, had they? Hermione shut this thought away. Now it was her guarding the students, and she wouldn't let them come to any harm.

On and on she went through the dark castle, the night crawling along slowly. Shortly after midnight she met Neville and went with him for a few minutes, enjoying the warm feeling Dumbledore's spell produced in her chest because of his presence. They talked about their pacing the corridors, and that they'd seen nothing suspicious, then just walked in silence for a few moments, heading towards the end of the corridor where it branched and they'd separate again.

"It's like a touch of frost," Neville suddenly said.

Hermione furrowed her brown. "What do you mean?"

He made a sweeping gesture. "This. Our life. I mean all our lives we have thought or tried to think that everything was all right, even when we knew it wasn't. Like the last few years. We knew that Voldemort was back, but when nothing seemed to happen we were glad, weren't we? We just hoped he'd leave us alone. We lived our lives as if he were gone. And when he suddenly struck it was like a late frost in spring, when all the flowers are already in bloom and are suddenly killed. And afterwards spring goes on, but it isn't the same anymore."

Hermione had never expected Neville to have such poetic thoughts, but his picture seemed rather fitting. "You're right. We felt secure, at least to a certain extent, and then something like this happens and catches us unawares. And suddenly nothing is as it was before." She hesitated for a few moments. "I guess the war will now start in earnest."

Neville nodded gravely. His face was pale but set, and Hermione was reminded of the determination and courage he had shown in the past. "I think you're right. But I guess it's better to get it over with now, than to live with the constant threat for years to come. My grandma was actually looking forward to this, she always hoped that Voldemort would come out into the open again so that we could fight him." He gave her a crooked smile. "I just hope we get through it alive. I don't want to lose any more friends."

Hermione took his hand and squeezed it. "Neither do I, Neville."

They had reached the end of the hallway, said good-bye and separated. Hermione walked on through the dark castle, patrolling corridor after corridor. Two o'clock, still one hour to go, but she wasn't tired. Her mind reeled with what had happened, with trying to analyse what it meant, and with memories of the twins, funny and now so painful. What would she ever do if her parents should die, or Harry and Ron? She didn't want to think about it, the idea was too frightful. And yet that was what it had been like the last time, hadn't it? People dieing all around, families ripped apart or wholly erased… She shuddered and resolutely pushed these thoughts away. No good getting panicky, she had a job to do.

When she entered a corridor close to the kitchens, she suddenly felt warmth in her chest. One of the others must be near. And sure enough, after turning a corner she found herself opposite of Snape.

She hadn't talked to him all evening, but a question had been burning in her ever since she had heard of the attack, a question she couldn't ask in the Common Room with all the students present.

"Hermione." He inclined his head a little and stopped in front of her. "I haven't yet had the chance to tell you, but I'm glad you're unharmed. And" he hesitated a little, "I'm sorry for your loss."

"Thank you." Now it was her turn to hesitate, and when she saw the wariness in his eyes she knew that he had noticed and that he knew what she was about to ask him. "Severus… Did you know what would happen?"

His face didn't betray any emotion, but his voice was cold and a bit sad. "Do you believe that I wouldn't have done anything against it if I had known about it?"

She shook her head, "No, I didn't. I was just wondering… I mean, I'm trying to make sense of all of this, of Voldemort suddenly employing muggle weapons and striking indiscriminatingly and in broad daylight in the middle of Diagon Alley."

Snape's expression relaxed a bit, and now there was only sadness in his eyes. "No, I didn't know what was going to happen. I knew that he was planning something, but I had never thought that he'd employ muggle weapons."

Hermione still looked at him intently. "You haven't been called, have you?"

"No, I haven't. It seems that the Dark Lord does not want to share his triumph with me any longer."

His face and voice were impassionate, but Hermione knew what this meant. "Be careful, will you? When he calls you again, I mean."

His eyes lit up for a moment, and he gave her a crooked smile. "I will. Now back to pacing the corridors." And he went past her, his steps echoing in the dark hallway.

It was only later, when Hermione's shift had ended and she was lying in her bed, that she could finally cry for Fred and George and for all the other people who had died and would still die because of Voldemort. Crookshanks lay curled up against her as her body shook with sobs, hot tears streaming down her face.


	11. Preparations

_Thanks a lot for your reviews! I'm glad you like the story and your comments really keep me going :-)._

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**Preparations**

When Hermione woke up next morning after a short night of troubled sleep, she immediately tried to reach Harry via the Floo Network. After she had talked to him and had informed Dumbledore she set out to visit the Weasleys for a few hours before she'd return to Hogwarts to discuss their further strategy.

When she apparated in front of the Burrow, Harry and Ron were waiting for her. Harry gave her a strained smile while Hermione drew Ron into a long and tight embrace. "I'm so sorry, Ron, so sorry," she told him with tears in her eyes, and he nodded and blinked rapidly.

Finally they went inside where they met the other Weasleys and Fleur. Mrs. Weasley was still keeping to her bed, her sorrow numbed by sleeping potions. They all said how happy they were that Hermione was unharmed, but there was a choking cloud of sorrow weighing down on the Burrow and Mr Weasley looked as if he had aged ten years.

After a while Hermione went outside with Ron, Harry and Ginny, and sat down in the still Gnome-infected garden. They didn't say much, just sat together, Harry holding Ginny and Hermione leaning against Ron.

"Dumbledore has invited us to spend Christmas at Hogwarts", Ron suddenly said. "I guess Dad will accept his invitation." His voice broke, "I don't think I can face Christmas at home."

Hermione took his hand and pressed it encouragingly. "I think that's a very good idea. Neville and I'll be there too, and it'd be great to have you around. And we could discuss what to do next."

Harry nodded. "I guess now the fight will start in earnest." His voice sounded hollow and Hermione thought what this must mean for him – to know that now after all these years the final decision seemed to have arrived.

"Whatever happens, I'll be glad to fight Voldemort" Ginny said, her eyes very hard.

"Yes", Ron agreed in a cold voice. "I just hope we can pay him back a little of what he has done to us."

Hermione stayed for lunch, the most depressing meal she had ever had in her whole life. She was glad when she could finally leave the sad and desperate atmosphere of the Burrow and return to Hogwarts.

**...**

The teachers, Hermione and Neville met in Dumbledore's office at 3 o'clock. When they had all sat down, Dumbledore addressed them very gravely: "You all know that these attacks signal that the war has begun again." Hermione felt chilly once more, and Neville, who was sitting beside her, grew tense. Yes, they had known, but hearing it spoken aloud by Dumbledore made it real. "And it seems that the war has taken on a new quality." The headmaster sighed. "I just got the message that a third bomb was detected in St Mungo's this morning. Luckily it was found and destroyed before it could do any harm. Unfortunately Severus neither knew about the attacks on Saturday and today, nor has he had the chance to gather information on Voldemort's further plans." _A nice euphemism for saying that Voldemort doesn't trust him anymore_, Hermione thought and looked at Snape, who listened to Dumbledore with a stony face. "He has also been unable to contact Lucius Malfoy and get information from him. We don't know if Voldemort will employ more muggle technology, but if he does, we're at a severe disadvantage. I'm afraid we have to be even more cautious than before."

"And there will be further resentments against muggles". Lupin was speaking now. "There are already rumours that they're helping Voldemort. The people are afraid of these muggle weapons they don't know and understand, perhaps even more afraid than they were of Voldemort's magical ones."

"But that's absurd", Hermione cut in. "People know that Voldemort hates muggles and would like to kill as many of them as possible."

Lupin turned towards her and gave her a bitter smile. "That's true but trust me, people don't think logically when they are afraid. Many of them will believe that the muggles are in league with him."

Hermione had to admit that he was right, and felt more worried than before. "So what are we going to do about it?" She asked, turning to Dumbledore, who was looking very serious.

"I'm afraid there isn't much we can do. The ministry has already started to disprove these rumours, and we'll do the same when school starts again, but in the long run we'll have to try to intensify muggle-wizard relations in general to counter such anti-muggle feeling. For the moment I advice you again to be very careful, especially when you're leaving Hogwarts. I also ask you not to go out into the grounds on your own. Regarding the safety of Hogwarts, the most pressing issue is to work on means to protect us against an assault like that on Diagon Alley. Hogwarts may be secure against dark magic, but it isn't against muggle weapons. I advised the Minister to get into contact with the muggle government which seems to have considerable experience in dealing with such incidents. They've already given the Minster a huge report on what they call 'terrorist warfare' and the ministry has sent me a copy." He pointed to a large folder in front of him. "If you're interested, copies will be available to you as well. I have only had the chance to browse through it, but as far as I can see the most severe threat to Hogwarts arises from all kinds of explosive devices. Does anyone of you have any ideas what to do against that?"

He looked at them expectantly and after a few moments Hermione raised her voice. "I'm not really familiar with bombs, but as far as I know they're all made up of more or less the same explosive components. If that's the case, perhaps we could create a spell that detects these elements."

Dumbledore nodded appreciatively. "I was thinking along the same lines. Severus, what do you say?"

Snape was furrowing his brow. "I'd have to get familiar with how these explosives are built, but it is certainly possible that they all have one or a few common denominators. I'll study the muggle report as well as other muggle resources."

Dumbledore smiled. "Very good. Filius, how about the spell?" Flitwick drew himself up to his full height, which still wasn't very considerable. "There are several tracking spells which might be modified to responds to whatever materials are common to most of the explosives. But to shield all of Hogwarts permanently we'll have to employ very powerful spells. I'd have to look into it more closely." He seemed to be rather happy about the challenge and already started taking notes on a large sheet of parchment.

"There's another point to consider", McGonagall put in. "What should happen if the spells detect an explosive? The best thing would certainly be to destroy it instantaneously, but then people close to it might be harmed. Perhaps we should try to transform it into something harmless instead."

"Brilliant Minerva", Dumbledore beamed at her. "Perhaps it could even be transformed into something which immobilises who- or whatever is carrying it? And of course there should be a noise or some other signal so that we know that something has happened. Well, this isn't too bad. Any more ideas?"

They started discussing the intricacies of the explosion-detection spells and after an hour felt that they were on the right track. Dumbledore consigned them to different parts of the spell creation and they were to meet again in two days' time, on the 23rd of December, to present their first results.

Hermione and most of the teachers spent the rest of the afternoon in the library. They returned after a short dinner but some left when their first guard shift started at 8 o'clock. They'd decided to patrol the castle from 8 pm to 8 am, the twelve hours divided into three shifts. The ministry had declined to send them Aurors or any other help, arguing that they were needed elsewhere, and so it was still up to the teachers to guard Hogwarts. Hermione was well aware that in the vast castle it would be nearly impossible for them to detect a bomb which had been placed there. She just hoped that the famous wards of Hogwarts would make it hard for an enemy to get in in the first place, and that any attackers would want to wait till school started again before attempting an attack on the castle.

At 11 pm Madam Pince shooed them out of the library, claiming that they couldn't be able to concentrate properly anymore and would likely miss important things. Hermione couldn't really argue with her and so she said goodbye to the others and went to her rooms.

After her visit to the Weasleys and the work she had done all afternoon and evening Hermione felt rather drawn. But she had less than an hour till her guard shift started, so she just made herself a strong cup of tea, took up a rather non-demanding but entertaining novel and curled up in the chair in front of the fire. Suddenly her escape into the age of Queen Victoria was disturbed by a low rapping at her door. At first she thought she'd just imagined it, or that it had been some other noise, but then she heard it again.

"Come in", she said feeling worried, wondering whoever would want to talk to her this late. The door opened and revealed Snape who was looking a bit uncomfortable but seemed to relax when he saw that she was still fully clad and sitting in her chair.

"Sorry to disturb you so late, but there's something I'd like to get done tonight."

"Well, come in then." She replied, now even more interested to know what this was about. "Would you like a cup of tea?"

"Why not, thanks". Snape sat down in the chair opposite of her and immediately Crookshanks, who had been lying in front of the fire, jumped onto his lap, curled up there and demanded to be petted.

"I went to the library", he said, stroking the cat absentmindedly, "but it was already closed. So I thought I might as well try if you're still awake."

She gave him a crooked smile. "My guard duty starts at midnight. What do you need?"

Again he seemed to feel a bit uncomfortable. "I'm not that familiar with muggle chemistry, and there are still a few questions regarding the components muggle explosives and bombs are built of. Of course it basically isn't that different from Potions, but I'll still need more information."

So Severus was actually asking her for help? It was clear to Hermione that it wasn't easy for him to admit that he didn't know everything. But he'd done it and she was eager not to betray this trust.

"I did a bit of Chemistry in my first two years at St Andrews", she said, receiving a slightly surprised look. "Perhaps I might be able to help if you have general questions. And we could do some research in the St Andrews library."

Snape relaxed visibly. "That was what I was thinking about. I'd like to go tomorrow morning, if that's all right with you. 8 o'clock?"

Realizing that this would give her about three hours of sleep that night, Hermione made an inward groan. But it couldn't be helped. "Fine, but we should contact the Kendricks before we go – perhaps even apparate to their house. As far as I know the library is closed during the holidays, so we need a key if we don't want to risk being mistaken for burglars."

"I hadn't thought of that, but you're right. I'll contact the Kendricks first thing tomorrow morning. Well", Snape put the still purring Crookshanks down and got up, "thank you for your help. I'll see you at breakfast?"

"You will. Good night, Severus."

"Good night, Hermione."

When Hermione took up her book again she suddenly remembered that she had forgotten to tell him to dress in muggle clothes. Well, he'd think of this himself. And even if not, people in St Andrews were accustomed to somewhat weird looking professors.

**...**

Wherever he had learned about it, Snape turned out to be rather better informed as the average wizard when it came to muggle clothes. When he met Hermione in the morning, he wore a black suit and a black coat. The only thing which made people look twice when they had apparated to St Andrews was his long hair.

The Kendricks had managed to get them access to the university library and they spent the whole day there, Snape pouring over Chemistry books and Hermione looking through the resources of the University's Centre for the Study of Terrorism and Political Violence. Finally she turned to surfing the internet and was surprised how easy it was to find instructions on how to build bombs.

In the afternoon Hermione's stomach started to growl loudly, and she asked Snape if they should go out and find something to eat, but he just snarled at her that he didn't need anything and disappeared behind a pile of books, taking notes furiously. Feeling slightly scolded, Hermione went outside, got Fish and Chips for herself and a sandwich for Snape and walked around the small town for half an hour before returning to the library. It was nice to be back, she just had wished that it had been under different circumstances.

At half past 10 pm they finally decided that they'd got enough information for this time and left to find a quiet spot from which to apparate back. Hermione led Snape to the nearby ruins of St Andrew's Cathedral, since at this time of day and year there hopefully would be no one there. And if anyone should spot them, they'd probably think they'd seen a ghost.

It was only about 5 minutes to the ruins, which were perched on a cliff above the North Sea. After the hours in the stuffy library, Hermione relished the cold night air, the smell of the sea and the sound of the waves. It had been a long day and after the last days of excitement and little sleep she was looking forward to her bed. When they arrived at the ruins, Hermione led Snape to the stonewall which bounded the edge of the cliff. Then she made for a spot were they could disapparate behind the remains of an ancient wall. The wind and the sound of the waves were stronger now, the stars sparkling over the wide expansion of the sea.

"When I was a student and wanted to get away from the noise in my hall of residence I often came here at night. It's usually very quiet here. _At__ least as long as there are no snogging couples around_, Hermione thought. "And the sea is beautiful."

Snape didn't reply anything, but followed her gaze out over the sea. After a few moments Hermione said "What happens if Voldemort asks you about the new wards?"

He was silent for a few moments. "You mean if I'd tell him how to breach them to save my cover?"

Hermione nodded.

"That of course is always the problem with being a double-agent." There was a trace of bitter sarcasm in his voice. "But you can put your mind at ease. Even if I told him, or even if he tortured me or anyone of us to get the information, it wouldn't help him. You will find when we are ready to put the wards into place that no one of us except Dumbledore will know all the spells which are used. So he ensures that no one can willingly or unwillingly compromise the security of Hogwarts."

Hermione felt relieved as well as a bit queasy. It was reasonable to prepare for the possibility that they could be betrayed or that one of them could break under torture, but it was an unpleasant thought nevertheless.

Suddenly Snape clutched his left underarm. "We have to get back immediately" he hissed through clenched teeth.

"Voldemort is calling you?" Hermione stared at him wide eyed, but Snape only nodded and made for the cover of the old stone wall. As soon as he'd arrived there, he disapparated. Cursing silently, Hermione followed him.

When she apparated in the Hogwarts grounds, Snape was already striding towards the castle. Hermione hurried after him and finally caught up, but he just hurried on, never saying a word. When they arrived at the castle Snape stopped for a moment, and Hermione halted as well, panting.

"I have to change and don't have time to inform Dumbledore", Snape said in an urgent voice. "Tell him I've been called and that I'll come to him when I get back."

Hermione nodded. "Good luck. I'll see you tomorrow." _Hopefully_, she thought.

Snape just gave her a short nod and hurried down the corridor.

**...**

Hermione informed Dumbledore and then sunk into her bed for a few hours of sleep before her shift would start at 4 am. When her muggle alarm shrilled after what seemed like only a few minutes she fervently hoped that they'd soon find something to secure them against the damn explosives.

As in the nights before, the old and new shift met in front of Dumbledore's office to exchange information. Unfortunately nobody knew if Snape had returned yet, and Dumbledore was nowhere in sight. Hermione volunteered to patrol the area close to Snape's rooms, hoping to meet him when he came back.

It was half past five when she suddenly felt the familiar warmth produced by Dumbledore's spell. A few moments later, Snape came in sight. He looked very tired and limped a little, but apart from that Hermione couldn't discern any injuries.

"You're all right?" she asked, hurrying towards him.

He nodded wearily. "I'm fine. All I need is some sleep. I've already talked to Dumbledore, we'll meet tomorrow evening."

Hermione was bursting with curiosity, but knew that she shouldn't keep him away from his hard earned sleep. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

He shook his head. "I just need some sleep. Good night."

"Good night, Severus", Hermione said, watching him as he walked down the corridor, trying to maintain his upright posture in spite of the limp.


	12. Christmas

**Christmas**

"The Dark Lord got the explosives from Basque terrorists", Snape told them the next evening when they met in Dumbledore's office after another day of hard studying. "Lucius Malfoy told me about it. Unfortunately he doesn't know if the Dark Lord only contacted them to get the bombs, or if he intends to work with them in the future. He also doesn't know if there are any bombs left. Lucius isn't happy at all with the use of muggle technology, but he grudgingly admits that the results are quite satisfactory. Only very few of the Death Eaters knew about the bombs, and several expressed unease with their use, since purebloods were hit as well. On the other hand they're delighted that many people now turn against the muggles."

"Thank you, Severus", Dumbledore said gravely. "Unfortunately it seems that anti-muggle-feelings are rather fashionable at the moment. Just look at the _Daily Prophet_." He held up the newspaper which sported the headlines 'How Muggles Could Be Helping You-Know-Who' and 'How To Find Out If Neighbouring Muggles Are Harmless'. Due to her research and lack of sleep, Hermione hadn't looked at the newspaper this morning and now felt grim anger rising up in her.

"There have even been some anti-muggle activities", Dumbledore went on. "The ministry officially condemns them, of course, but they say they don't have the manpower to thoroughly investigate them." He sighed. "We can just hope that Voldemort stops employing muggle technology and that people then come to their senses again."

_But how likely is that? _Hermione thought, feeling rather cold._ This is exactly what he wanted_._ And how long will it take until it's not only muggles, but also muggle-born witches and wizards who are perceived as dangerous?_ _We'll fight among ourselves, and if Voldemort just waits long enough and makes people afraid enough, there won't be anything left for him to do._

Hermione's glum mood was raised a little by the news that thanks to their research they were now able to put up a few provisional anti-explosives wards. They weren't perfect yet, but until they'd develop something better they would at least give them a certain amount of security. This also meant that their individual patrolling duty was reduced to three hours per night until the final wards would be set into place.

Before they left Dumbledore told them separately when and where to meet him to perform the magic necessary for the new wards. _Severus has been right_, Hermione thought, _nobody apart from Dumbledore will know all the defensive measures. Let's just hope that that's enough._

**...**

Hermione spent the next morning – the morning of Christmas Eve – poring over the report the muggle minster had given them. She was reading it for the third time, to make sure that she'd understood everything and hadn't missed any important information. She had been lucky in getting the first shift the night before and consequently had finally had nearly a whole night of sleep. But she was restless nevertheless, glancing at her watch ever so often and having problems concentrating. Harry and Ron should have arrived half an hour ago. Of course they might have been delayed by a number of reasons, but after the bombings Hermione was rather anxious. They were Aurors, after all.

Just when she had decided that working without concentration was no good, her door shook with loud knocking and was thrown open before she could even say "Come in." Harry and Ron stood in the doorway, both covered with melting snow.

"Harry, Ron" she felt herself grinning happily. "Come in! It's great to see you!"

They stepped into her room and, this being their first visit, looked around curiously. Hermione went towards them and gave them a tight hug in spite of their wet cloaks. Ron still looked rather earnest and sad, but his eyes had a determined look and he gave her a small smile when he finally let go of her.

"Sorry we're late", Harry said, "but we were kept at the ministry. After last week you can imagine what's going on there."

"Hermione, wow." Ron was looking around appreciatively. "This is really nice. I never knew the teachers had such spacious rooms."

Hermione took their wet coats, dried them with a flick of her wand and hung them next to the door. "Yes, they're quite nice. Come over and sit down. Would you like something to drink – tea perhaps? I also have some chocolate cake."

Settling in Hermione's cosy armchairs the three started talking about the last days. Ron admitted that he was glad they had to do so much work for the ministry at the moment, since it kept him from too much brooding. They were busy following every lead they had on the bombing and Voldemort, but as yet had not been very successful.

"When will the rest of your family arrive?" Hermione finally asked Ron.

"This evening. It was really hard to persuade Mum to leave the Burrow, but in the end they convinced her that it'd be better to spend Christmas here." He was just reaching for a second piece of cake when suddenly there was a knock on the door.

"Oh, that'll be Remus." Harry explained. "We met him in the grounds and he said he'd drop by. Come in!"

But when the door opened it didn't reveal Lupin, but the dark figure of Snape.

Harry and Ron froze while Hermione, after a few seconds of surprise, started out of her chair and hurried to the door.

"Oh Severus, it's you! Erm…"

She didn't have a clue what to say. She couldn't really ask him in, but neither could she just chuck him out.

Snape, who had also gone rigid when he had spotted Harry and Ron, was eyeing them with a very cold stare.

"I see you have visitors. Mr Potter, Mr Weasley." He gave them a short nod, his mouth twisting in a disdainful smile. Then he turned his gaze to Hermione, but it didn't soften at all. "I brought you the book you asked for at breakfast." He thrust a large tome into Hermione's hands. "Goodbye." He turned around and hurried away, his steps echoing from the walls of the cold corridor. Hermione was frozen for a few seconds, but then closed the door swiftly to keep the warmth inside.

"Severus?" When she put the book on her desk and returned to her armchair Ron looked at her scandalized. "You call him Severus?"

Hermione felt a bit embarrassed. "Well, you know, all the teachers call each other by their Christian names."

Ron still looked rather taken aback. "But still! Did you see how he looked at us! It must be terrible to work with him."

Hermione took some time to answer, but finally settled for the truth. "Actually it's not. He – he is different when you're his colleague. Not necessarily nicer, but he respects you."

Ron was visibly astonished. "Hermione you surprise me. Don't you remember what a terrible teacher he was? The way he treated us – and Neville! Always favouring the Slytherins! He was not only unfair but downright cruel! Don't you remember his comments about your jinxed teeth?"

Hermione didn't know what to say. Strange how much the bad memories had faded in the last months, as if they had been of a completely different man. And yet, Ron was right, Severus had often hurt her deeply and Ron's words brought back all the indignation and hurt feelings of her student's days.

"You are absolutely right, he was a terrible teacher – probably still is. But listen, I have to work with him, and what's even more, he's in the Order and Dumbledore trusts him. We get on well together and I certainly won't change that now."

Ron was still staring at her intently. "Well, I guess you have to get along with him. But Hermione, no matter what he does for the Order or Dumbledore, you shouldn't forget how he treated you when he had power over you as his student."

Hermione nodded, but felt that she should at least try to make them see both sides of the story. "You're certainly right, but you know, a lot of what he does in front of the students is a show for the Slytherins or anyone who might have a connection to Voldemort. He couldn't risk appearing to like us too much, could he?"

Ron didn't seem convinced, but finally nodded. "Okay, that makes sense in a way. But I'm still sure that he's a cruel bastard deep down. You can't tell me it was all show."

"No." Hermione said quietly. "The problem is to find out what is and what is not."

Harry, who had been unusually quiet till now, reached out for another piece of cake. "Did he know about the attack?"

Ron looked thunderstruck, thoughts obviously racing through his brain. But Hermione shook her head: "No, he didn't. It seems that Voldemort doesn't trust him anymore, he is not often called nowadays."

Harry looked at her intently. "At least that's what he tells you..."

Hermione felt a surge of frustration. "Listen, Harry, I believe him. He's in a terrible position, Voldemort often injures him and no one knows if he won't kill him soon. Try at least to be fair to him."

Harry didn't look convinced. "Be careful, Hermione. He hates me, like he hated my father and Sirius – and I have to say that the dislike is quite mutual." His voice was flat, betraying no emotion, and Hermione felt a cold shudder run down her spine. "But let's not talk about old Snape anymore, there are definitely nicer topics."

They changed their conversation to their friends, but Hermione couldn't help worrying about dinner when they'd meet Snape again. For the first time she felt separated from her friends, knowing that they hated someone she had grown to respect. Or were they right? How well did she really know him? Had she repressed her bad memories of Snape and created a new picture of him which conformed more to her wishes than to reality?

**...**

Finally Remus showed up and they had lunch in Hermione's rooms. Afterwards they spent the afternoon visiting Hagrid and walking around the castle grounds. Although it sometimes felt as if they were teenagers again, Hermione couldn't help feeling distanced from her friends at times. Their lives were very different now, a fact she had of course been aware of before, but which their unabated hatred of Snape had shown her forcefully.

Their mood was still muted, but sometimes they'd forget what had happened to Fred and George and laugh at a joke or memory, only to check themselves immediately and feel guilty.

"It feels strange, doesn't it?" Ron finally commented when they were sitting at the shores of the lake, chucking snowballs into the water. "I mean I'm terribly sad, but then suddenly something happens which makes me glad, and I laugh, but then I feel guilty."

"I know what you mean", Harry replied. "I guess that's just normal. And I'm sure Fred and George wouldn't have minded your laughing."

Hermione nodded forcefully. "I guess with the war starting again, we should try to get all the laughter and happiness we can, don't you?" She was thinking of what might happen, that this could very well be the last days she'd spent with them. She was sure her friends were thinking something similar when Ron suddenly leant against her and Harry said in a low voice: "Yea, I guess you're right."

**...**

When the Weasleys arrived in the evening, they and Harry had a meeting with Dumbledore to discuss what had happened and how the Order would react to it. Afterwards Dumbledore talked to Harry alone, but when Hermione later asked him about it he didn't want to tell her about their conversation. Hermione however didn't really need to know. They all knew what the beginning of open hostilities meant for Harry.

Dinner that night was a big event. The Weasleys, together with the teachers and the few students who spent Christmas at Hogwarts, were all sitting at a large table which was piled with delicious food. Neville, who had spent the day with his parents, had returned as well and was now chatting animatedly with Harry and Ron.

Hermione had felt uncomfortable about Snape ever since the morning, wondering if she should do anything about the strained relationship between him and her friends and if, what. Usually she and Snape made at least some small talk during the meals, but he had sat down at the far end of the table, next to two young Slytherins. Hermione had to admit to herself that she wasn't really sorry for this, as having him next to herself and her friends would certainly have dampened their spirits considerably.

The atmosphere was solemn, but not sad, and laughter erupted from time to time. After they had finished eating, Dumbledore rose and looked at them seriously. "I have been wondering if I should tell you this, especially tonight, but finally I decided that it wouldn't help to keep you ignorant. Today I got the massage that one of our students, Rupert White from Slytherin, was killed in the bombing. Two other students, Rosaline Dawson from Hufflepuff and Katherine Guilbert from Slytherin, were injured but are recovering. There'll be a remembrance day when the students are back again. Rupert certainly won't be forgotten."

Hermione felt a cold lump in her chest. Of course she had known that this might happen, but it still shocked her. Rupert had been a shy intelligent 12 year old she'd liked very much. Suddenly she felt guilty for enjoying herself, for having avoided thinking about the bombing and for sitting here worrying about the stupid quarrel between Harry and Snape. The people around her were visibly shocked, too, and Mrs Weasley started to sob quietly. Hermione glanced in Snape's direction, wondering if he'd known before that one of his students had died, but he was busy talking to the two Slytherins who were manifestly shaken.

After giving them some moments to come to terms with the news, Dumbledore cleared his throat. "We won't forget Rupert, but this again shows us that we must stand together, regardless of personal feelings or house rivalries." He gave a stern look to Snape, Ron and Harry. "And even in spite of this terrible news, we mustn't let sadness and fear dominate our life, because if we did, Voldemort would have won. So remember that tonight is still a reason to celebrate hope and friendship."

No matter what Dumbledore had said, Hermione didn't feel like celebrating any longer. Looking again in Snape's direction, she was wondering if she should go and tell him that she was sorry for Rupert. But he was still talking to the Slytherins, and she didn't want to disturb them. So she kept seated, and soon after Snape excused himself and his students and left with them.

After that, more and more of the students left until only the teachers, Harry, Ron, Neville, Hermione and the Weasleys were left. They finally abandoned the table for comfortable couches which Dumbledore had conjured up in front of one of the large fireplaces. Hermione felt strangely soothed by the warmth and the flickering flames of the fire and by the presence of Ron and Neville who were sitting beside her. After a while, when the conversation had nearly died down and most of them were silently staring into the flames, Dumbledore spoke once again.

"I know these are sad times." He looked gravely at Mr and Mrs Weasley. "But as I said before, and as I said over twenty years ago, as long as we have each other, and as long as we can still enjoy life, Tom Riddle hasn't won. So don't let him take that from you."

Some of them nodded in agreement, but no one felt much like talking, and they retired to their rooms or to guard duty not long afterwards.

Hermione's shift finished at half past midnight. While she had been patrolling the corridors she had been thinking what to do about Snape's present. For a few moments she had considered if she should just keep it herself, since Snape might consider it a bad joke after what had happened. But Dumbledore was right, they mustn't let Voldemort control their lives, and perhaps Snape might appreciate a sign of friendship even more now – although she had to admit that that seemed rather unlikely. Anyway, she'd give him the present. There was however still the task of writing a message to go with it. After wrecking her brain for nearly twenty minutes, she finally wrote

Dear Severus,

Thank you very much for your help during the past months.

Yours sincerely,

Hermione.

_So that's all I can come up with after studying English for four years_, she thought sarcastically, not really satisfied with this rather bland and stiff message. But everything else she had thought of just didn't sound right. Still feeling rather depressed she called a house elf and instructed him to take the presents for her colleagues to their rooms during the night so that they'd see them when they woke up. It took Hermione two hours to get to sleep, and even then her dreams were troubled.

**...**

The next day Hermione woke up to a brilliant sunny winter morning. But after a few seconds the memory of what had happened hit her and made her feel sad again. When she got up and went into her living room she found several beautifully wrapped presents standing on her desk. They were from her colleagues and Hermione opened them excitedly. Most were books, but McGonagall had given her a beautifully wrought glass-chandelier, and Lupin a beautiful antique looking slide made of intricately woven silver wire and a few small, green stones. Neville's present was an exotic looking plant with long striped leaves and fiery red blossoms. Hermione felt quite touched by these signs of friendship and her mood brightened. She certainly wouldn't let Voldemort depress her, but concentrate all her powers on fighting against him. And she'd try to enjoy life, because as she had just powerfully seen, you never knew when it'd end.

Finally she gathered up her presents for Harry and Ron. She'd arranged with them that she'd meet them at Gryffindor tower where the two were staying in their old dormitory. When she arrived in front of the boys' door she shouted "are you decent?" but waited only a few seconds for an answer and then entered. Harry and Ron were still in their pyjamas and busy opening presents on their beds. Seeing them like this made Hermione feel swept back to their schooldays and brought a wistful smile on her face. She went towards them, gave them her presents and sat down on Harry's bed. For him she'd bought a magical map of Britain on which he'd always be shown his exact location, even when he was flying on a broom. Ron got a book about famous Quidditch players of the 19th century. They were both enthusiastic about their presents and presented her with a small box which contained a complicatedly looking mechanical device. It looked fascinating but Hermione didn't have a clue what it was.

"Thanks a lot, but what is it?"

Ron gave Harry a triumphant and yet sad smile. "So finally something you don't know? Well, it's an invention by my dad and the twins, Harry made them do it."

"Oh", Hermione felt at a loss what to say, and just looked at the small box.

"You know", Harry took over, "when you left for Hogwarts you told me how unfortunate it was that electric devices don't work here, and that you'd miss your computer and the other stuff?"

Hermione nodded. It had truly been hard to get back to a live without these devices again.

"Well, I'm sorry I couldn't do anything about the computer or TV, but this is something like the magical equivalent of an MP3 player. Don't ask me how it works, but all you have to do is play your CDs in front of it and it'll memorise them so you can listen to them here as well." He was smiling at her proudly.

"Harry, that's fabulous. Thanks a lot to you two!" Hermione was genuinely pleased. "What a great invention. Ron, you have to give my congratulations to your dad." She was already thinking when she might find the time for a short trip home to transfer her CDs onto the device.

They spent the next hours chatting and looking at the presents. Ginny and Neville soon joined them, and they finally went in search of the Weasleys. After lunch all apart from Ron and Harry, who wanted to stay until evening, left for the Burrow.

It was a beautiful day, the sun shining brightly from a clear sky and everything outside covered with crisp snow. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville and Lupin spent the afternoon strolling around the Hogwarts grounds, paying a visit to Hagrid's latest creatures and finally starting a snowball fight. When they at last returned to the castle for hot chocolate and cake, they were wet and exhausted, but happy.

In the evening Hermione accompanied Harry and Ron to a spot outside the Hogwarts grounds from which they would be able to apparate. When they'd arrived there Harry turned towards Hermione. "Hermione, listen, I'm sorry for what I said yesterday about Snape. You know how it is with him and me, I just can't help loathing him… In a way I'm still blaming him for Serius's death, even though I know that it wasn't his fault. Dumbledore is right, this is not the time for personal quarrels, so I promise I'll try to put this behind me. And I'm glad that he's treating you well, I was a bit worried about that." Hermione felt extremely relieved and gave him a dazzling smile. "Harry, I'm so happy you said that. You've changed, you know."

"Haven't we all?" Ron said. "Sometimes it seems as if the last four years haven't happened, but they have." He sounded a bit wistful and on an impulse Hermione gave him a big hug.

"You're right, we aren't the same people we were when we were together at Hogwarts. But we're still friends, aren't we? And we'll always be." Suddenly she felt rather emotional which didn't really get better when both Harry and Ron hugged her at the same time.

"Take care," Ron said when he let her go. "Hogwarts will be one of the prime targets. I don't want to get any bad news about you."

Hermione nodded. "The same goes for you." Suddenly she thought that this might be the last time she saw them, but she pushed the thought away and smiled at them bravely. "Write often, will you? And come and visit me, it was great to have you in Hogwarts again."

"We will", Harry replied, and after a final farewell they disappeared.

Hermione felt too emotional after this to head back to the castle directly and instead started to walk around aimlessly. The silent darkness and the soft moonlight on the snow had a soothing effect on her, and after half an hour she decided that it was time to get back and turned towards the castle. The snow was really beautiful and she was lost in thoughts about the possibility of getting some skis when she turned around a bend in the path and nearly bumped into a figure standing right in the middle of it. It was Snape.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't see you Severus" she hastened to say, suddenly remembering all her Snape-related problems.

"You shouldn't be out alone at this time," he said, sounding rather fierce.

Hermione knew he had a point there, but still felt patronized and was irritated by his aggressive tone. After a few moments he added "So you've accompanied your friends?" There definitely was a snarl, but when she gave him a quick look he looked less forbidding then wary.

"Yes I did. Severus, I'm so sorry about Rupert. I wanted to tell you yesterday but there never seemed to be the right moment for it…" she trailed off, not knowing if that had been the right thing to say, and looked at his face intently, trying to get a clue how to behave towards him. For a split second she thought she'd seen a flicker of pain in his eyes. Suddenly she noticed that he seemed to be even paler than usually.

"Thank you. He was a promising student."

"Oh Severus, he wasn't just intelligent. He was a really nice boy, quite friendly for a Slytherin."

He gave her a wry smile. "You're right, he was more than just a promising student. We'll miss him…" He looked away into the darkness and absentmindedly swept a strand of his hair back. After a few moments of uneasy silence he met her eyes again. "Are you going back to the castle?"

"Yes, I've been out in the cold long enough."

"May I join you?"

"Sure. You're right, I shouldn't be out alone."

They had gone along in silence for a few minutes when he suddenly said "I have to thank you for your present. But it wouldn't have been necessary."

He was walking on her right, looking straight ahead, his profile failing to betray any emotion and his voice non-committal. Reading this man was more difficult than anyone else Hermione had ever known, and so she chose an apologetic answer: "I know you don't like Christmas presents, but it wasn't meant to be one – well, not exactly. It was more something to express my thanks for your support during the last few months."

He was still looking straight ahead. "There wasn't much I did for you, you didn't really need my help."

"Oh no Severus, that's not true. Think of all the times you helped me with some strange recipe. And you also gave me this potion to make soiled books legible again. It really helps a lot, you know..."

After a few more moments of silent walking he finally turned his face towards her.

"Then thank you once again. I don't remember if I ever had flowers in my rooms, but I'll try to keep it alive."

Hermione felt very relieved and smiled broadly. "Then I'll check on it from time to time." She had hardly said the words when she realized that this might have been too much, but Snape only gave her a quizzical look and finally said "you're welcome."

They walked the rest of the way in silence, but it wasn't oppressive anymore.


	13. Death, be not proud

_Back again - and this time with some real plot development ;-). Unfortunately university starts again soon, but I'll try to update on a regular basis. __Enjoy!_

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**Death, be not proud**

They met again in Dumbledore's office the next afternoon, but all he could tell them was that the Ministry had still not made any progress in finding Voldemort or anyone connected with the bombings. There hadn't been any further attacks, but anti-muggle feelings still ran high and several incidents in which muggles had suffered from wizards' aggressions had been reported from all over Britain.

The only difference to their previous meetings was the presence of Electra Anistaphala who had come to help them with the new wards. When the meeting ended and everyone made to leave, she asked Hermione to stay for a few moments. "I heard you were in Diagon Alley the day of the attack?" the elder woman asked when only she, Hermione and Dumbledore were left in the office.

Hermione nodded. "Yes, but I was lucky to leave early. I spent the rest of the day with a muggle friend and so only learned about it in the evening."

"I'm glad you weren't harmed", Anistaphala said, but then furrowed her brow. "We really should have some fast system to inform the members of the Order about incidents like this even if they're somewhere were they can't be reached by our usual means of communication. Of course you could also just leave your friend's address the next time." She smiled at Hermione.

"I will", Hermione replied. "For communication we could also use a system we developed when we had the secret defence society under Umbridge. We used charmed coins which would give the time and day of the next meeting and would grow hot when the date was changed. I'm sure they could be modified to serve our needs."

Anistaphala gave her an appreciative smile. "That's a very good idea. What do you think, Albus?"

Dumbledore beamed at Hermione. "I've always said that Ms Granger's resources are endless. I think it's a great idea and if it worked well for Dumbledore's Army" – he smiled and gave Hermione a wink – "we should definitely try it."

"Then that's settled", Anistaphala said. "Now, the reason why I asked you to stay in the first place was that I wanted to talk about your work."

Wondering where this was going, Hermione only nodded and waited for her to continue.

"At the moment the security of Hogwarts has absolute priority, of course", Anistaphala said, "but I'm already looking forward to your next report on the books from the vault. You've done admirable work."

"Thank you", Hermione said, still a bit puzzled.

Looking at her intently, Anistaphala suddenly asked "What do you think about the secret vault?"

Now Hermione had an inkling where this was going. "You mean what I think is the reason the books were concealed there in the first place?"

Anistaphala nodded.

"Well", Hermione said, "It's hard to say. Until now I think we have checked nearly 200 books altogether, so that means about 10 percent. And as you are well aware of, none of them really deserved being placed under such elaborate spells. The youngest book in the vault is from 1476, so we can assume that they were hidden sometime after that. Filius told me that some of the wards used to secure the vault were used in the 16th century. So we can suppose that the books were hidden sometime in the 16th or early 17th century. Now, I've done some research and talked to Professor Binns, and none of the spells and potions I've found in the books I've worked through were especially powerful even in the 16th century. Granted, some of them are quite interesting from a historical point of view, and we found some spells and potions we didn't know before, but none of them is so dangerous that they would have to be locked away for centuries. So the great question is if we just haven't yet come across the really interesting books, or if most of them have been put there only as a decoy, to hide perhaps only one book which contains truly dangerous material. Or if it's not about the books at all, but about something else entirely."

Dumbledore smiled at her. "Very good reasoning, Hermione. I'm willing to agree with you, so what do you think this means for us?"

Hermione sighed. "I'm afraid this changes nothing. There might still be interesting information in many of the other books. So I guess we just have to carry on as we have before, checking everything thoroughly."

Anistaphala nodded slowly. "I agree with you and Dumbledore. It seems strange that the books you've already looked at are so ordinary, but we don't know what you may find yet. Just keep me informed if you hit upon anything strange."

"I will", Hermione replied. "And I'll work on the coins as well."

After a few more minutes Hermione said good-bye and left, her mind full of ideas for the modification of their DA coins. When she was a few corridors away from Dumbledore's office she suddenly saw Lupin standing at one of the large windows, gazing out into the gathering dark, his arms on the windowsill. It had started to snow again and he seemed to be so caught by the dancing snowflakes that he neither heard her approaching nor minded the cold which made the corridors rather uncomfortable.

Hermione didn't want to disturb him, but neither could she just pass by without acknowledging him. Moreover, she hadn't really thanked him yet for his beautiful Christmas present, and she preferred to do it when they were alone.

"Hello Remus," she said softly, stepping next to him and gazing out of the window. "Anything interesting?"

He shook his head. "No, I was just lost in thoughts. The snow is beautiful, isn't it?"

Scrutinising him closely, Hermione noticed that he looked tired. They all suffered from the strain of guard duty, but after doing a quick calculation she also realised that full moon was only one day away.

"Yes." He gave her a wry smile. "It'll start again tomorrow. But Severus's potion is working quite well, it isn't as bad as it used to be…"

Suddenly Hermione felt a wave of compassion for him. If he'd been Ron or Harry, she'd just given him a hug, but she didn't dare to do this with the elder man. So she just laid her hand on his arm in a – she hoped – encouraging way. "If you need any help, just tell me."

"Thank you, Hermione, that's nice of you. I'll think about it."

They were both gazing out into the snow now, Hermione's hand still on his arm.

"I haven't really thanked you yet for your present", she finally said. "It's really beautiful – were did you get it?"

Lupin seemed genuinely pleased. "I'm glad you like it, I thought it might suit your hair. It belonged to my grandmother and…"

"Remus!" Hermione was shocked. "You can't give me something that precious, really, I mean…"

But he shook his head firmly. "No, Hermione, don't worry. It's very unlikely that I'll ever have any use for it – no, don't say anything, you know how it is."

Suddenly Hermione felt very sad. "What about Tonks? I thought she liked you, and I'm sure she doesn't mind your being a werewolf."

He shook his head. "She doesn't mind, but I do. No, don't worry about me, I'm happy enough the way it is. And don't look at me like this", he said with comic indignation, and Hermione felt caught. "Otherwise I'll feel like a pathetic old loner. I really want you to have the slide, and I'm sure that my grandmother would be happy for you to have it, too. She was a formidable woman who would have liked you. Well", he drew away from the dancing snow, "there's still some time till dinner starts. What do you think about going to the library and doing a bit of research?"

Hermione agreed and they set out in the direction of the library. But she couldn't help thinking how lonely Lupin must be with no family and all his old friends gone now, and she promised to herself that she'd try to be there for him more often in the future.

_I'm surrounded by psychologically frail people_, she thought sarcastically. _Already I have two middle aged lonely men to take care for - I only hope McGonagall doesn't suddenly want to discuss her love life with me._

**...**

It took them the rest of December and the first two weeks of January to develop anti-explosive wards which were powerful and durable enough to meet Dumbledore's approval. Until they were set into place patrolling duty continued, especially when school started again. When Dumbledore finally told them that now they were as secure as possible and could stop patrolling the castle, they all heaved a sigh of relief and Hermione looked forward to nights of untroubled sleep again.

Probably all of them had expected that there would be more bombings or other attacks from Voldemort. But throughout January nothing happened. The anti-muggle sentiments expressed in the _Daily Prophet_ were toned down a bit and there was less open aggression against muggles, but Hermione knew that this was only as long as Voldemort didn't strike again. The students were understandably worried about what had happened, and wild rumours about impending attacks on Hogwarts and great muggle conspiracies circled the castle. Hermione also came across several quarrels and fights she thought were due to anti-muggle sentiments. Dumbledore and the teachers tried to fight this, of course, but Hermione knew that the students were easily susceptible to fear and simplified accusations and that it would only take a new attack with muggle weapons to set Purebloods and students with a muggle background against each other.

In the first week of January Luna had arrived at Hogwarts to start her apprenticeship with Hagrid. Over the years Hermione had grown quite fond of the clever and courageous, if sometimes strange young woman, and Neville, who had been rather downcast ever since his grandmother's death and the bombing in Diagon Alley, was visibly happy.

One morning late in January Hermione got a letter by owl inviting her to the wedding of her Slytherin-friend Stella in April. Hermione was happy for her, but also worried. Stella, one of Slytherin's star pupils, would marry Christian Fuchs, a German muggle exchange student she had met at St Andrews. As could be expected, her family and Slytherin friends were not very supportive of the marriage, and when Hermione later in the day talked to Stella via the Floo Network, she told her that there had been some rather nasty comments. But although Stella felt hurt she was determined not to let these problems overshadow her happiness. Hermione just hoped that she wouldn't have to suffer from worse than insults.

After the new wards had been set up, Hermione spent a whole weekend working on the improved coins for the Order. When she was finished, the numerals around the edge of the fake Galleons could be changed to short texts which would show up on the coins of the other members. Of course it would get rather problematic if many people wanted to communicate at the same time, but she would impress on them that it was just to be used for really important messages. Basically if your Galleon grew hot it would mean that you should try to contact Dumbledore. Hermione thought of her mobile wistfully, but she knew that there was no use moaning. Thinking about muggle technology however gave her another idea, and when she presented the Galleons at their next meeting in Dumbledore's office, she couldn't quite suppress a feeling of pride.

After having shown them how to send messages via the coins and how they would grow hot if anyone sent a message, she unfurled a large map of Britain and put it on the table.

"I got this idea from some muggle technology called GPS, from a map I gave Harry for Christmas, and of course from the Marauders' Map", she gave Lupin a great smile. "If you tap your coin with your wand and say _Reperio_1, your location will show up on this map, which I suggest should stay in Albus's office." Hermione tapped her coin and immediately a tiny gleaming dot appeared somewhere in the Scottish Highlands. Magically zooming in, the geographical positioning grew ever more detailed and they could see that the dot was labelled with 'Hermione Granger'.

"Very good", piped Flitwick, beaming at Hermione. "That is a piece of well done magic."

The others expressed their appreciation as well and Hermione handed out fake Galleons to all of them. "It's nice to have one of these again", Neville said with a wry smile, turning his coin in his hand, and Luna nodded forcefully. "Just like old times", she said with a sparkle in her eyes, and once again Hermione realized just how much the DA had meant to them.

**...**

Now that they were no longer busy with the anti-explosive wards, the teachers and especially Hermione could again return to the books from the vault. In the last week of January she hit upon three tomes by a wizard called Fredericus Micaelus who, as she found out from her reverence books, had been Charms teacher at Hogwarts from 1577 to 1584 and then again from 1591 until his death in 1647. It seemed that he had spent the years between 1584 and 1591 in Virginia, accompanying Sir Walter Raleigh on one of his voyages to the New World and staying there to study the magic practiced by the Native Americans as well as the magical plants and animals of North America. Apparently his good relations with the local shamans had helped him to survive the fate of the ill-starred Roanoke Island settlement, and it was for these explorations, rather than for his work at Hogwarts, that he was known after his death.

The three books from the vault had all been written after his return to England, and Hermione found them to contain a fascinating mixture of medieval alchemy creatively combined with the scientific insights of the Renaissance and knowledge he had gained about Native American magic. Some research in the library revealed that Hogwarts kept all the personal writings and documents Micaelus had left behind at his death, and one cold and dreary Saturday morning at the beginning of February Hermione set out to the library vaults to browse through them and perhaps learn something about the mysterious fate of the Roanoke colony.

It took her some time to find what she was looking for in the vast halls, and then she spent several hours looking through the old documents which were written in an old-fashioned yet luckily legible handwriting. She had put on warm clothes and used a warming spell, but finally was chilled nevertheless and returned to her rooms with a leather-bound, rather battered looking book. This had been the most interesting find in his documents, a sort of notebook and diary from his years in the New World. Hermione had only browsed through it and had found it to be divided into two parts, the first two-thirds text and the last third detailed drawings of magical plants and creatures.

It was already afternoon when she returned to her rooms, and since she had missed lunch she ordered some food from the kitchen and curled up in front of her fire to get warm again. Hermione spent the rest of the afternoon reading Micaelus's book, only taking a short break for dinner. It was fascinating stuff, not only interesting because of the content, but also because he had been a talented writer who not only described things vividly, but also gave a lot of his personal thoughts and feelings. The longer Hermione read, the closer she felt to him.

Unfortunately it turned out that Micaelus had not stayed long on Roanoke Island but had journeyed inland and spent most of the following years travelling around and living with different tribes. So he hadn't been aware of whatever had happened to the settlers. When he had returned to the colony, shortly before the ships from England finally arrived, he had found it deserted. It also turned out that Micaelus had fallen in love with a young woman called Kanti, the daughter of a local shaman. He seemed to have loved her very much and Hermione was touched by his descriptions of her little quirks and their affectionate banter.

After two years they had had a son and Micaelus had been overjoyed. Three years later, however, the boy had suddenly been killed by a bear, leaving his parents broken-hearted. Hermione was deeply moved by Micaelus's descriptions of the terrible accident and his and Kanti's grief. After that event his entries lost their earlier vivacity and wit and got more and more depressed.

Things got still worse when Kanti, already weakened by the loss of her son, contracted a mysterious illness. Neither Micaelus's magic nor the skills of her own people could prevent her from slowly wasting away until she finally died. Micaelus's sad and despairing entries and his helplessness which was again and again broken by sudden bursts of hope which always turned out unfounded moved Hermione deeply. He had employed all kinds of magic, some of them quite dark, to strengthen her and to keep her soul and spirit with him, but she had died nevertheless. Hermione suddenly had to think of Fred and George, of all the people who had already died and all who would probably die, and tears slowly began to trickle down her face. Before she could prevent it, a few fell on the old parchment, blotting Micaelus' words.

Cursing under her breath, Hermione immediately dried them away, but the damage was done and a few words had been blotted. Angry with herself, she put the book away. She'd come to the end of Micaelus's narrative, anyway. There was a short postscript at the end of the book, but apart from that the rest consisted of Micaelus's drawings.

After a few minutes in which she fixed herself a cup of tea Hermione turned back to the book and started to read the postscript. It was written several months after the death of his wife and recounted how Micaelus, still heartbroken, had decided to return to England and had set out for the coast.

When Hermione finished reading, she felt sad and drawn. She just hoped that Micaelus hadn't staid alone for the rest of his life. Tomorrow she'd try to find out if he had found another wife later on... perhaps she could ask some of the portraits? Come to think of it there might even be a portrait of him around, after all he had been a teacher at Hogwarts.

Idly leaving through Micaelus's drawings, Hermione was caught by a strange effect. On some of the pages, the drawings seemed to be overlaid by words, and as she looked onto them she was astonished to see that the drawings got lighter and lighter while the words got more and more clear. After a few minutes nearly all of the drawings had vanished, replaced by pages full of text in Micaelus's handwriting.

Hermione felt her pulse quickening. Whatever had happened and however she had done it, there seemed to be more to this book than Micaelus had wanted casual readers to see. The date of the first new entry was shortly after the death of Kanti. Micaelus was obviously in great emotional turmoil, raging against his fate and not willing to accept the fact that Kanti was really gone.

The next entries were calmer, but now Micaelus started speculating about Kanti's soul, and how he had the impression that she was still near him, even if he couldn't see her. He consulted the shaman who had been her father, and he agreed that Micaelus's power had probably been great enough to tie his wife to the world of the living, but he begged him to set her free, so that she could go in search of her little son.

Micaelus was now torn between the knowledge that his wife wouldn't have wanted to stay in limbo between the world of the living and the world of the dead, and his own desire to keep her close to him. His thoughts became more and more anguished, and finally he decided to try something unbelievable, something he knew he should never attempt. He wanted to bring back his wife.

The more Hermione read the queasier she felt. When she reached the descriptions of the preparations for the ritual with which he wanted to resurrect his wife it made her skin crawl and her heart started pounding. Micaelus didn't describe it in detail but Hermione was sure that he had employed ancient Dark Magic in a way very similar to Voldemort.

She read on eagerly, her mind spinning. The ritual had worked well enough, and Kanti had been reborn, if not looking exactly the way she had looked before. Micaelus had been overjoyed, interpreting his wife's stillness and sadness as a result of bewilderment. But during the following weeks he had had to realize that she wasn't happy. She had never wanted to go back, but had been eager to be rejoined with their little boy. She also knew that her new existence was unnatural. Her own people had turned away from her in fear and disgust, and Kanti felt in every fiber of her being that she just didn't belong there anymore. All she wanted was to die again, this time for good.

After two months of misery Micaelus decided to grant her her wish. But he found out that it was not easy to kill Kanti. Weapons couldn't lastingly harm her, she didn't have to eat, and was even immune to the Killing Curse. Micaelus finally asked the help of the local shamans, and together with them developed a ritual using incantations, charms and potions which at last weakened Kanti far enough to make her susceptible to the Avada Kedavra Curse. When she was able to die at last, killed by her own husband, he only saw joy on her face, but his heart was broken.

After this entry there came a short paragraph which suddenly addressed the reader:

_If you have been able to read this, you have grieved with me and I am grateful to you. This is dangerous knowledge and thus I decided to hide it f__rom everyone but those who are able to share my feelings. For although love may defeat death, this is not always wise. May your life be happier than mine, and may you be wiser in your grief than I have been._

_So it must have been the tears_, Hermione thought. _My crying for his loss made the secret pages legible_. She was shaken not only by the story, but especially by its possible implications. Voldemort's resurrection had differed in several points from Kanti's, but Micaelus's story might nevertheless give them valuable information.

Wistfully wishing for a copier, Hermione immediately took up parchment and a quill and started to copy the secret entries. She didn't know how long the spell, which had obviously been triggered by her tears, would last, and if it could be triggered again. When she had finished she detected that the words at the beginning of the secret entries were already fading, replaced by the drawings.

Although it was after midnight, she wanted to tell Dumbledore and called a house-elf to ask him to come and see her. Only a few minutes later there was a rapping at her door and Hermione opened it to a bemused looking Dumbledore who had thrown a bathrobe in dark blue over his striped pyjamas.

"What's the matter, Hermione? I hope you're all right?"

"I am. Please, just sit down and read this." She handed him the copy of the secret entries and the book. "You'll understand immediately."

Dumbledore sat down in front of the fire and Hermione prepared two cups of tea. When she turned back towards the Headmaster, his face was shining with excitement, his eyes sparkling while he read what she had given him. Finally he looked up, smiling broadly. "This is brilliant. How did you find it?"

Hermione gave him a short report and Dumbledore nodded. "I've always thought that Fredericus Micaelus was a very interesting man, but of course I had no idea how interesting. Needless to say you know what that means."

She nodded smilingly and handed a cup to Dumbledore who drank the tea eagerly, all the time humming to himself excitedly. "Of course there is much work to do", he said. "Micaelus didn't use exactly the same ritual, and Voldemort certainly doesn't want to die, but still it's very valuable information. Unfortunately he's also very vague about the details of both rituals. But nevertheless..."

He seemed happier than he had for a long time, and Hermione couldn't help smiling at him broadly. "Isn't it ironic that all this time we were looking for help in the books from the secret vault, when it would have been available right under our noses?" Suddenly a thought struck her. "Do you think Voldemort knows about this?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "I don't think so. His ritual was slightly different, and even if he knows that this book exists, I don't think he would ever be able to read it. Don't forget, it was only your compassion which enabled you to find the secret entries. And I'm very sure that Voldemort would never have cried for a man who lost his love."

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1_ Latin: to find, to discover, to get again_


	14. High hopes

**High hopes**

At breakfast the next day Dumbledore called a staff meeting for the evening. Hermione was excited all day long, re-reading the secret entries and doing some research in the library. She was bursting to tell her friends about what she had found out, but on Dumbledore's request she had promised to keep quiet until the evening. When they finally all met in Dumbledore's office, Hermione couldn't quite keep a large grin from her face.

The headmaster waited until everyone had sat down and then handed them copies of the secret entries. "I've called you today because Hermione has found something rather extraordinary, something which might help us in our fight against Voldemort", he said, turning towards Hermione. Suddenly all eyes were fixed on her with curious and excited expressions. Gesturing towards the copies everyone was holding, Dumbledore went on, "Hermione, please tell us how you came to find what you're now holding in your hands."

Hermione gave a short summary of how she'd become interested in Fredericus Micaelus, who he was and how she had found his diary. She then told them about his entries and how his sad story had made her cry, her tears triggering a spell which made secret entries appear. "And now", she said, "I think it's best if you just read."

They turned towards the pages eagerly, giving short exclamations of surprise and excitement as they read, and finally looked up at her and each other with smiles on their faces.

"This is brilliant!" Lupin beamed. "This might actually work."

"It is certainly very promising" said McGonagall, the struggle between hope and caution clearly visible in her face, "but Micaelus is rather vague. I think we should…" and they all started discussing what they had just read and how they could use it against Voldemort.

The only notable exception was Snape. Hermione had watched him while he was reading, and unlike the others he had not made any comment. When he had finished, he just looked out into the night, his face very still but a strange sparkle in his dark eyes.

Finally Dumbledore cleared his throat and everyone went quiet. "I guess you'll all agree that this is an extraordinary discovery which calls for further research. Hagrid and Pomona, Micaelus mentions some North American plants and animal products which were obviously somehow used in the ritual. Please try to find out as much as you can about the things he used and how they were used. Minerva, Filius and Lupin, I'd ask you to think about the spells, chants and incantations. Severus, Micaelus also mentions several potions, please find out as much as possible about them. It'd probably be a good idea to work together with Pomona and Hagrid. And I'm sure that Hermione would be happy to help you, too."

"What about Anistaphala?" Hermione asked. "Will she be informed about the book? And if not, how do we explain that we don't have so much time for her work?"

"For the moment I'd like to keep this strictly among us", Dumbledore said. "This doesn't mean I don't trust Elektra, or that we won't consult her if needs be. But the less people know about it, the better. I'll tell her that we have some problems with the wards and therefore you can't work at the books from the vaults full time."

Hermione nodded. She didn't like to deceive the women who had shown her nothing but support and kindness, but if Dumbledore thought it necessary she'd trust him.

**...**

They met again the next evening to present the first results of their research. It looked promising, but the problem was that Micaelus was rather vague on the details of the spells as well as potions used, and they often could only guess what he meant.

"We could ask his portrait, if there exists one", Hermione suggested. "I've asked the Fat Lady, and unfortunately there is no portrait of him in Hogwarts, but perhaps there is one somewhere else?"

Dumbledore nodded. "That's certainly the best idea. Does anyone know about a portrait of Micaelus?"

They all shook their heads. "I'll look into this", Lupin volunteered. "I know some catalogues and resources I could check."

"Very good," Dumbledore replied. "Then we'll meet again in three days to report on the new developments."

They spent the following days doing further research and experimenting with some spells and potions. But the longer they experimented, the more they felt that they needed more information.

_It's like poking in the dark_, thought Hermione as she looked critically at a potion she was stirring slowly. Their initial excitement had soon ebbed away and was now only rarely rekindled. Instead Hermione couldn't help feeling frustrated. And it didn't look as if this was likely to change now. Hagrid had given them the blood of an animal he thought Micaelus had used for one of the potions, but he was far from certain. And they on the other hand didn't have any detailed information on several other ingredients, let alone the preparation of the potion. And even if they miraculously should be able to produce the correct potion, they probably wouldn't know because they didn't know what role it had played in the ritual. Hermione wrinkled her nose. The longer she stirred, the more foul the potion smelled.

"Do you really think I'm supposed to stir it counter clockwise?" she said doubtfully, turning towards Snape who was working at a table next to hers and was pouring ingredients into another potion.

He looked up shortly, sniffed in her direction and gave her a disgusted look. "I have no idea", he said irritably and returned to his own cauldron again.

Mentally shrugging a shoulder, Hermione went on stirring, trying to keep her head as far away from the unpleasant fumes as possible. The longer they had experimented on the potions, the more irascible Snape had become.

When Hermione suddenly perceived dark smoke rising up from his cauldron, she became a little worried. "Hm, Severus. You have noticed that your cauldron is smoking, haven't you?" He just shot her an angry glance and went on adding all kinds of stuff that Hermione thought should better be left out.

She'd just returned her gaze towards the increasingly disgusting contents of her own cauldron, when a loud bang shook the laboratory. Hermione was thrown a few feet away, pain erupting in her back as she crashed into a desk. When she opened her eyes again, she could hardly see anything because of thick black smoke filling the laboratory. Her head and ears rang from the explosion, and when she scrambled back to her feet again her body hurt painfully where she had hit the desk and floor. Apart from that she seemed to be fine.

"Severus?" she tried to shout, but due to the smoke could only cough. Getting her wand out of her robes, she performed a vanishing spell which cleared away the smoke and revealed the rather untidy remains of their experiments. Snape was lying in a corner, crumbled up against the wall, lying very still.

Worry gripped Hermione and she immediately hurried towards him and knelt down beside him. His face was black and for a moment Hermione thought back to Angelica and how he had scolded the girl when her potion had exploded. But there was no time for schadenfreude now. "Severus?" she asked, trying to determine if there were any obvious wounds. Suddenly his eyelids fluttered and opened. Groaning, he tried to stand up, only accepting Hermione's arm when he couldn't get up on his own strength.

"I'm all right", he rasped, coughing and looking at the mess the explosion had produced. Brushing away Hermione's hand and taking a few tentative steps, he dragged himself to what remained of his cauldron.

"Well", he said sarcastically, looking down at it. "I guess that wasn't the right formula."

Suddenly he turned towards Hermione. "You're all right?"

She nodded. "Yes, just a bit bruised. What do you think," she gave him a slightly anguished smile. "Should we leave it to the house-elves and get some of Poppy's salve?"

He hesitated, but finally nodded agreement. "Stand still", he said, looking at her critically and fishing for his wand. "You're rather dirty", he explained, performing a cleaning spell. Hermione snorted. "I'm certainly no worse than you", and she performed the same spell on him.

Looking presentable again, if a bit dishevelled, they set out to the hospital wing. _I just hope Lupin finds a portrait_, Hermione thought as they walked slowly and rather gingerly through the dark corridors.

**...**

When they met next time it was obvious that not only Snape and Hermione were frustrated. After they'd all vented their disappointment and recounted their problems, Dumbledore turned towards Lupin who had been conspicuously quiet. "Remus, did you find anything to help us?"

Lupin hesitated. "Well, the good news is that there exists a portrait of Micaelus, painted by the painter Niclas van Delft." He paused, looking at the expectant faces around him. "The bad news is that it hangs in Malfoy Manor."

There was silence for a few moments. "Well", Dumbledore said, looking thoughtfully, "that makes things a bit complicated. But", he gave them an encouraging smile, "certainly not impossible."

The others nodded hesitantly. Hermione felt a mixture of elation – after all if a picture existed that might be the solution to all their problems – and frustration at the new challenge they were facing.

"I'm afraid it's up to Severus again", Dumbledore said, looking at him apologetically. Snape only gave a short nod and Hermione felt a stab of pity, but knew that he was the only one who could get access to Malfoy Manor without any problems.

"I will try to spend one of the next evenings in Malfoy Manor", Snape said in his usual impassionate voice. "Then I'll hopefully be able to find out where the picture hangs and if Micaelus is able and willing to help us."

Dumbledore nodded agreement. "Then we'll meet again when you come back. Good luck, Severus."

**...**

Three days later, on a cold Sunday morning, Dumbledore called them again.

"I found the portrait", Snape told them. "Luckily it hangs in one of the less used corridors. I was able to talk to Micaelus, but", he hesitated, his mouth twitching in what Hermione knew was a sign of anger, "he refused to give me the information we want." He suddenly looked straight at Hermione. "He wants to talk to Hermione first."

Hermione felt a sudden mixture of fear and excitement. "Because it was me who found his secret entries?"

Snape nodded, his face pronouncing his contempt for such behaviour. "He seems to be a rather sentimental old man" he sneered.

"But how do we get Hermione to the picture?" McGonagall asked, furrowing her brow. "She certainly can't just walk into Malfoy Manor, and I guess we wouldn't be very successful if we attempted to steal the picture?"

"No, we wouldn't", Snape agreed. "For various reasons Malfoy Manor is one of the best guarded houses in Britain. But I have an idea how we can do it."

"An invisibility cloak?" Lupin asked, but Snape only shook his head derogatorily. "Using an invisibility cloak won't be necessary. In two weeks Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy are celebrating their 25th wedding anniversary. There will be a great ball, and I'm invited. I'll just take Hermione with me."

Shocked silence descended, and Hermione, who was as astonished as the others, had a short vision of the look on Lucius's and Draco's faces when they saw her with Snape. But although it was a satisfying image, she knew that Snape must mean something else. "You mean that I'll be disguised in some way? Lucius and Draco would certainly become suspicious if you turned up with me." _They'd probably think you've put me under the Imperius_, she thought, but didn't say.

"Yes", Snape said. "You'll be enchanted to look different and pose as my accompanying guest. That way you can walk through the manor without raising suspicions and should be able to talk to the portrait. You needn't get all the information from Micaelus immediately, that's something I can do later. You'll just have to establish contact with him and convince him that he has to help us."

Hermione nodded. "I'll do it."

Dumbledore looked at her gravely. "I'm afraid there's no alternative. But please be careful. If you're caught and found out, it's not only your life but Severus's as well which will be at stake."


	15. The Game is afoot

**The Game is afoot**

"Drink this."

Snape handed Hermione a small phial with a greyish potion. It was the evening of the Malfoys' wedding anniversary and she had come down to the laboratory to be turned into someone else.

Removing the stopper from the phial, Hermione looked at the potion sceptically. "What's this?" she asked, taking a cautious sniff and immediately whishing that she hadn't. The potion smelled like old eggs.

"It's a derivative of Polyjuice Potion that makes the body susceptible to charms which alter the appearance. Aurors use it a lot."

"Well, I guess it can't be helped," Hermione commented wryly, held her breath and downed the potion. Nothing much happened, she just felt a strange tickling sensation all over her body.

"Now I think it'd be best if you closed you eyes," Snape instructed her, looking at her critically. "That way you won't be as strongly affected when I change your body."

Hermione didn't like that very much, but closed her eyes with an internal shrug. She was wondering what he would make her look like. A stunning blonde, or would he go for a dark femme fatale? Snape started muttering incantations under his breath, but she could understand very little. The tickling sensation increased and finally turned into an unpleasant tugging, causing a slight feeling of nausea. After what felt like ten minutes Snape ceased muttering and there was only silence. "Are you done?" Hermione asked, swaying slightly and eager to see what she now looked like.

"Yes, you can open your eyes." When she did so she saw him looking at her with a curious expression on his face. He gestured to a full-length mirror he seemed to have just conjured and she went to it hesitantly, moving uncertainly with her new body.

Hermione looked into the mirror, a strange woman staring back at her. She was older, in her early or midst thirties she guessed. Her body was slightly more curved and she was also a bit taller, but that was mostly due to the rather high heeled shoes Snape had put on her feet. Her face wasn't pretty in the conventional sense, her large grey eyes a bit too far apart and the cheekbones too pronounced. But the overall impression, also furthered by sleek, long black hair falling over her bare shoulders, was dramatic and certainly eye-catching. Snape had put her into a silvery, rather revealing dress which Hermione would never have bought herself, but which she had to admit looked great on her new body. He had also given her some jewellery, earrings and a necklace made out of silver, pearls and diamonds, which matched the dress perfectly.

Hermione turned in front of the mirror, taking in her new body and trying to get accustomed to it. When Snape stepped behind her, looking at her reflection, she gave his a mischievous smile and lifted an eyebrow. "So this is what you'd like your girlfriend to look like?" Even her voice had changed, it was lower and she spoke with a soft American accent.

Snape's mouth twitched but his face was unreadable. "This is what Lucius thinks my girlfriend would look like."

"I see," Hermione said, not wholly convinced. Suddenly she had to think of Sarah, who had had long dark hair and bright grey eyes. Had Snape tried to recreate her? She felt rather queasy about this, even though another look in the mirror told her that she didn't look like Sarah, at least not too closely. When Snape stopped glancing at her reflection and turned towards the door, she shot him a questioning look.

Anyway, this was not the time to wonder about Snape's psyche. They had a job to do this night and that would be difficult enough without her worrying if Snape was trying to resurrect his long lost love. _Perhaps he's not that different from Micaelus_, Hermione suddenly thought.

Snape had procured a light grey fur coat to shield her against the cold, and with a flick of his wand changed her high-heels to elegant boots for their trip through the Hogwarts grounds. They met a few students on their way through the castle who gave them rather surprised and sometimes admiring glances. Hermione grinned silently. This masquerade certainly had its entertaining aspects.

"So who am I?" she asked Snape as they stepped out of the castle doors.

"You're an American Potions Master from Boston. We met two years ago at a conference in Salem and have stayed in touch ever since. You came over three days ago to do some research on mind-altering potions. I haven't thought of a name yet, but I'm sure you'll have an idea."

Hermione thought for a few moments. "What about Jean Taylor? Jean is my middle name, and Taylor was my mother's maiden name, so I'll hopefully remember to react to it."

Snape nodded. "So Jean Taylor it is. You intend to stay in Britain for a month and are happy to be invited to Malfoy Manor. I propose you feign ignorance of Lucius's and my involvement with Voldemort, but if asked you should express opinions which tend to agree with Lucius's.

Hermione grimmaced. "I'll try to. How about our relationship...?" She hesitated, glancing over at Snape but he just looked straight ahead. "I mean are we just good friends or more...?"

"I have given Lucius the impression that something happened between us two years ago, and that now we think about picking up where we left."

His voice was still dispassionate, but Hermione couldn't help feeling a bit worried. Impersonating another woman was one thing, impersonating Snape's girlfriend was something else entirely. _How far will we have to go?_ She wondered. Somehow she couldn't picture them snogging in a dark corner... Hermione had to stifle a giggle and Snape looked at her searchingly. _Well, close your eyes and think of England_, she thought sarcastically as they finally arrived at their disapparating spot.

They apparated in a small entrance room where house-elves waited to take their coats. From there they went into the proper entrance hall where they were greeted by Lucius and Narcissa. Flinching inwardly, Hermione put on a self-assured smile and looked them straight in the eyes.

Malfoy gave her an admiring look and raised her hand to lightly kiss it. "So that is your American friend?" He asked Snape, his eyes never leaving her.

"Yes," Snape answered dryly, "this is Jean Taylor."

Narciassa looked at her nearly as intently as her husband, but with far more critical eyes. Hermione was glad when other guests arrived and she and Snape could leave.

Snape led her through a succession of grand rooms filled with guests and delicious food. He ignored both and Hermione couldn't help but admire the way in which he strode on purposefully, his posture and face radiating haughty self-confidence, the black silk robes he had put on billowing impressively. _I wonder if he chooses his robes for their billowing qualities_, she thought not for the first time and smiled to herself.

"Lucius and Narcissa will be occupied with greeting guests for at least 45 minutes," he said in a low voice. "That's our best chance of talking to the portrait without anyone noticing."

Hermione just nodded and tried to keep up with him. In spite of herself she was impressed with what she saw. The Malfoys might be a bunch of bastards, but they certainly had style.

"What do we do when they catch us talking to the portrait?" Hermione asked, trying not to twist her ankles in her high-heeled shoes. "Do we pretend we're a snogging couple who was just looking for a quiet corner?"

She had said it in a joking voice and smiled when she noticed that Snape faltered in his step for a second. "That won't be necessary," he said dispassionately. "We'll just say that you as an American are very interested in Micaelus because of his travels in the New World and wanted to see the picture."

Hermione nodded. She felt a bit worried but also rather excited, adrenaline cursing through her body. She hadn't felt like that for many years, not since her adventures with Harry and Ron, and in a way it was elating – a least as long as everything went according to plan…

They soon left the other guests behind and after walking through empty rooms and corridors for a few minutes finally arrived in a dimly lit hallway on the third floor which ended in large double doors. There were two other doors on the right and three on the left wall of the corridor. Snape strode towards a large painting right at the end of the hallway, on the right hand of the large double doors. There were three more paintings on the walls of the corridor, but Hermione was glad to see that they were either still lives or unoccupied, their occupants obviously having gone down to watch the ball.

When Hermione arrived in front of the large painting, its occupant was already eyeing them curiously.

"Micaelus," Snape said curtly after having cast the Muffliato spell so that no one could overhear them, "this is Hermione Granger, the young witch who discovered your secret entries. She doesn't usually look like this, but had to be disguised to be able to come here."

The man in the picture made an old-fashioned bow. He seemed to be in his sixties, was tall and very slim and looked at Hermione with bright, curious and yet guarded eyes. He was painted in what was obviously meant to represent a North American forest glade, surrounded by exotic plants, animals and three tipis. Behind one of the tipis Hermione suddenly saw a young woman who was eyeing her suspiciously and held the hand of a small boy.

Hermione gave the painted wizard a dazzling smile. "It's a great honour to meet you. I was very impressed by your work and," she paused, "by your diary as well." She looked him square in the eyes. "I was so sorry for your loss, but I'm happy to see that Kanti and your son are with you again."

Micaelus nodded. "Since I lost her in real life, this is the next best thing I have." He gave Hermione a searching look, glancing at her silently for a few moments. Finally he seemed to come to a decision. "I believe that you are the one who found my entries, and that you found them because you truly felt with us. I will help you."

Hermione, who had held her breath, relaxed and gave him a relieved smile. "I'm so glad. As Professor Snape has certainly told you, your help might be instrumental in defeating a dark wizard who is responsible for the death of hundreds of people."

Snape made an impatient noise. "Go on with it, we don't have all evening."

Hermione nodded and opened the small bag she had brought with her. She pulled out a handkerchief and a small powder box and with a flick of her wand transformed them into a piece of parchment and the recording device Harry and Ron had given her for Christmas.

"These are our most pressing questions," she said, showing Micaelus the parchment. "And with this," she held up the recording device, "I'll be able to record your answers. I'm sure there'll be more questions in the future, but I hope you'll allow Professor Snape to come and ask them. You see, I'm not someone the owners of this house would ever invite."

"What she means is that if she were found out they'd probably torture and kill her," Snape cut in brutally. "Now get on with it." He shot a glowering glance at her and Micaelus and then turned to observe the corridor.

Micaelus gave him a doubting look, but finally nodded. "I will talk to him, even if he is rather discourteous."

Hermione smiled with relief. "All right, then here is the first question…"

She asked Micaelus all the questions the various teachers had given her and he answered as well as he could. Sometimes however he wasn't sure about all the details anymore, and Hermione thought grimly that they would have to spend many more hours researching and experimenting. Still, his information would help them a lot and when they had ended Hermione thanked him profusely.

Twice they heard footsteps in the distance, and Hermione's heart started pounding, but every time they seemed to turn into another corridor before they reached theirs.

"I am sorry this will have to be our only conversation," Micaelus said when she had transformed the parchment and recording device again and was ready to leave. "It was good to talk to someone who knows my story. And he," he shot a glance to Snape who was already striding down the corridor, "does not seem to be very sympathetic."

Hermione gave him a wistful smile. "You would be surprised. Don't be fooled by his behaviour, he too has lost someone he loved."

Micaelus looked surprised. "Well, then I'm sorry for him. I wish you success with your fight, and hope you get safely back to Hogwarts. Please keep me informed."

"We will." Another impatient snort from Snape made her start. "Good bye."

Hermione had to hurry to catch up with Snape who was already leaving the corridor. _I just wished he had given me different shoes_,she thought exasperatedly as she nearly ran down the hallway, trying not to stumble.

"Well, that went rather well," she said brightly when she finally reached him.

"We were lucky," he growled. "I just wished you wouldn't have started chatting with him. We're rather late."

Hermione felt a pang of guilty consciousness. "I'm sorry, but I thought it'd be helpful to establish a good relationship with Micaelus." She glanced at Snape. "He was just glad to have someone to talk to."

Snape snorted. "He's a sentimental old fool."

"Is he?" Hermione felt slightly irritated and defensive for the dead wizard. Looking straight ahead, she said quietly "You should know what it feels like to lose someone you love."

Again Snape faltered in his step for a moment, but then he just hurried on even faster than before, making it impossible for her to keep up. _Great Hermione_, she thought ruefully. _Now you've really made him angry. And you still have to spend the rest of the evening pretending that you're his lover_.

A few minutes later Snape slowed down again. They could already hear the voices of other people and he waited for her to catch up so that they could enter the party together.

"I'm sorry, Severus," Hermione said softly and a bit breathlessly when she caught up with him. "I shouldn't have said that."

His face was dispassionate. "Try to concentrate on acting your part now, we still have several hours to spend in there. If anyone asks where we have been we'll say that I've shown you the greenhouses. There are some quite spectacular orchids in there."

Hermione nodded and took the arm he was holding out to her. Putting on her most self-assured smile, she entered the room. It seemed that they'd been lucky and Lucius and Narcissa were still occupied with greeting the last guests. They walked around the rooms for several minutes, Snape nodding at people he seemed to know from time to time, but never entering into conversation, until a loud gong told them to come to the great ballroom.

When all had gathered there, Lucius gave a short speech. Looking around, Hermione saw some known Death Eaters, all clad in their best clothes. _What a nice assembly_, she thought sarcastically. She also spotted Draco. She hadn't seen him since leaving school and had to admit that he had turned into a quite good looking young man, the spitting image of his father.

Finally Lucius ended and everyone turned towards the food which had been set up in various rooms. She and Snape helped themselves to something as well and sat down on a small table in a corner. When she started eating, Hermione suddenly noticed that she was ravenous. "How long do we have to stay?" she asked Snape who was observing the other guests.

"It's nine o'clock now," he answered. "Dancing will start in about half an hour and I'm afraid we'll have to stay at least till midnight if we don't want to raise any suspicions."

"How long does my disguise hold?"

"Don't worry, it'll last until tomorrow morning."

Suddenly he stiffened and when Hermione followed his gaze she saw Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy heading towards them.

"Well Severus," Lucius said when they arrived at their table, "why are you hiding like this?"

He and his wife sat down and while Lucius was giving Hermione his most charming smile Narcissa again looked at her searchingly, her cold blue eyes examining her in a disconcerting way.

"You know I'm not keen on parties," Snape replied stiffly. Lucius shook his head, his gaze never leaving Hermione who started to feel rather queasy. Was he flirting with her? In front of his wife at their wedding anniversary? That might certainly explain why she looked at her like this. "But I'm sure your charming guest would like to meet some of your friends."

Hermione gave him a non-committal smile. "It seems his friends are coming to us anyway."

Lucius laughed, his eyes sweeping over her body in a way which made Hermione think that she'd very much like to punch him. Suddenly he turned towards Snape and said, "Severus, I'm afraid I'll have to take you away for a few minutes. There's someone I'd like you to meet."

Snape frowned and looked at Hermione, but then gave Lucius a short nod, got up and went away with him.

_Brilliant_, Hermione thought sarcastically, now sitting alone with Narcissa. She fervently hoped that Lucius's wife would get up as well, but she kept sitting, still scrutinizing Hermione.

"It's a great party," Hermione said, trying nervously to think of what else to say.

"Thank you," Narcissa replied, and an uncomfortable silence ensued, Hermione wondering why Narcissa was looking at her like this and if she would eventually start yelling at her to leave her husband alone.

"You seem to like Severus," the elder woman stated abruptly.

"Well, yes, I do," Hermione said, surprised at the direction the conversation was suddenly taking.

Narcissa was looking at her as if to determine if she spoke the truth. _I just hope she's no Legilimens_, Hermione thought, not for the first time wishing that she had learned Occlumency

"I'm glad he's finally found someone," Narcissa suddenly said. She gave Hermione a guarded smile. "He's a good man, if a bit complicated, and he deserves happiness."

Hermione was surprised by the warmth in Narcissa's voice, and by her concern. It seemed she genuinely liked Snape. Now Hermione also understood the elder woman's scrutinizing looks. _She's worried about him_. It was strange to realize that this woman, whom Hermione had always only seen as an arrogant trophy wife, seemed to really care for her friends.

Narcissa's light blue eyes never left her face. "I'd just ask you not to toy with his feelings. I don't want him to be hurt."

Hermione met her gaze squarely. "I will never intentionally hurt him", she said, and realized that she meant it.

Narcissa nodded slowly, seeming satisfied. "I'm glad to hear it." Her eyes left Hermione's face and swept over the room until she suddenly seemed to spot something. "Well, I'm afraid I have other guests to attend to", she said apologetically. "It was nice meeting you, and I hope I'll see you again soon." She got up and went away, leaving Hermione with a slightly bemused smile on her face. This had certainly been one of the strangest conversations of her life – Narcissa Malfoy warning her not to hurt Snape…the thought of it!

Hermione sat at the table for ten minutes, but Snape didn't return. Some of the guests shot her questioning glances, and since Hermione was not keen on anyone taking pity on her and coming over to her, she eventually got up to get something to eat from the tables which were set up at one side of the room. She was just walking down the rows of food, trying to decide what to take, when an all too familiar voice addressed her.

"You should try the Caviar, it's delicious." Looking to her left, Hermione found herself face to face with Draco, who was smiling at her with his most charming smile, looking eerily like his father.

"I'm Draco Malfoy," he said, "the son of Lucius and Narcissa. And you are?"

"Jean Taylor."

His gaze swept over her body very much like his father's had earlier. _Heaven, Draco_, Hermione thought exasperatedly, _I'm_ _far too old for you_. The thought that she had become the object of desire for Draco Malfoy made her smile and she had a hard time suppressing a loud laughter.

"I see you are unaccompanied?" He asked. "Would you care to join me at my table?" He pointed to a table not far away, where Hermione detected the familiar faces of Crabbe and Goyle and the rather glowering of Pansy Parkinson.

Hermione couldn't imagine anything she'd like less than spending time with Draco and his cronies, but was spared from finding an excuse when she suddenly felt two cool hands on her upper arms. She froze for a moment, but relaxed when she heard the familiar voice and realized who had stepped up behind her.

"Miss Taylor is with me, Draco," Snape said rather smoothly. On an impulse, Hermione took a small step backwards and leaned into him, at the same time lying her right hand on his left which was still holding on to her left upper arm.

Now it was Snape's turn to stiffen, but when she gave his hand a warning squeeze he relaxed again.

"I guess you know each other, Severus?" Hermione asked innocently.

He nodded. "Yes. Draco is not only Lucius's son, but was also one of my pupils. I know him rather well."

Draco's eyes had widened in surprise when he had realized the connection between Snape and the mysterious woman, but he soon caught himself and now gave Snape an appreciative smile. "It was nice meeting your…friend," he stressed the last word, smirking. "If you like perhaps you could join us later and say hello to your former students."

Snape inclined his head non-committally. "Perhaps I will. Now please excuse us, Draco." And he turned away, only now releasing his grip on Hermione's arms, and walked towards the door of the room, Hermione following.

On entering the next room they found themselves in the great ball room where a small orchestra was even now getting ready to play. It seemed like the dancing would start soon. Snape furrowed his brow, but then led Hermione to a corner of the room.

_Hiding in dark corners is not really the __best way not to raise suspicions_, Hermione thought sarcastically when Snape finally stopped and took up position in the shade of a large plant several meters away from the other guests. "What did Lucius want?" she asked curiously.

"Nothing important," Snape snorted. Then he said quietly, "He wanted me to meet someone who is a raising man in the Dark Lord's service."

"Anyone we know?"

Snape nodded. "I'm afraid so. It's Walter Watson, the new head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."

Hermione drew in her breath. "Do you know if he's a genuine follower, or is he under the Imperius?"

"I don't know yet, but it hardly matters. It isn't surprising, to tell the truth, Dumbledore has suspected Watson for some time. At least now we know for sure."

Hermione nodded, wondering how many important people in the Ministry were already willingly or unwillingly under Voldemort's influence. Suddenly the feeling of triumph she had felt because of their success with the portrait was rather damped.

"What did Narcissa want from you?" Snape asked.

Now it was Hermione's turn to snort. "You wouldn't believe it. It was actually quite nice, in a way. She wanted to know if my intentions regarding you were honourable and asked me not to hurt you."

Snape was silent for a while, his expression unreadable.

"And what did you tell her?" he finally asked quietly.

Hermione suddenly felt rather strange. "I told her that I'd never hurt you intentionally."

Snape didn't say anything but turned away abruptly, his eyes searching the guests around him.

"I was quite surprised," Hermione said at last to break the strange silence which had sprung up. "I mean I always thought her rather unfriendly, but she seems to genuinely care for you."

Turning back towards her, Snape's mouth twisted in a melancholy smile. "She does. Narcissa can be a good friend to the people she likes."

_Which certainly wouldn't be me if she knew I was a mudblood_, Hermione thought. Sometimes she wished back her childhood days, when it seemed that those people who treated her unfriendly were the bad and loathsome ones, and those who were nice to her the good ones. But the man beside her was the best example that life wasn't that easy.

Suddenly Hermione realized something. "It must be hard for you to deceive them."

Snape's mouth twitched. "It is necessary," he said without any emotion, but he broke the eye-contact again and looked away towards the orchestra which had started playing.

It was only then that Hermione realized what it really meant for Snape to be a double agent. It seemed that Narcissa and perhaps even Lucius were real friends to him, more genuine friends than he seemed to have in Hogwarts or anywhere else. They had known him all his life and trusted and accepted him in a way no one else did. And he knew that the day would come when he'd have to betray them, and when they would realize what he'd done and their friendship would be over for good.

He must be a very lonely man.

Hermione felt a wave of pity and sorrow for him, and on an impulse she did something which she would never have done under any other circumstances or if she hadn't been enchanted to look like someone else – she took a little step forward, reached up with her right hand to gently touch his face and gave him a swift kiss on the cheek.

Snape looked at her thunderstruck, then turned around wordlessly and just walked away.

Hermione was nearly as shocked by what she had done as he had been. Looking after him dumbfounded, her thoughts reeling, she took a few steps backwards to lean against the wall. _Hermione Jean Granger, what have you done now! _She thought, not knowing if she should laugh or cry. Reason started to kick in, pushing away the chaos of emotions in her head and forcing her to analyze her action and its likely repercussions. _Well, it was only a small kiss on the cheek, it's not as if I had stripped in front of him_, she defended herself. _And I did it because he seemed so lonely and isolated, and to be honest I've wanted to give him a hug for some time now. __So it's totally innocent._ But leaning against the wall watching the dancing couples she knew that that wasn't everything. There was something which she had successfully tried to ignore until now, but which she couldn't anymore. Her fascination with Snape was growing and her feelings for him now encompassed more than the confusing mixture of wariness, old grudges, admiration, pity and sympathy she had felt when she had returned to Hogwarts. Ever since then she had come to enjoy his presence more and more, and had been happy when she thought that he liked her at least a little bit as well. Deep down she had realized this months ago, but had never wanted to admit or even analyze it. _Hermione, Hermione, what are you doing!_ She thought wryly and with a hint of desperation, staring unseeingly at the couples swirling across the dance floor. _Are you falling for Snape? … of all people that's certainly the worst choice… What are you doing?_

And what should she do now? She was hardly sure of her own feelings, not to mention his. And even if she wanted a relationship with him, and even if he'd be interested, now was the worst time for something like this.

In a way this was a relief. It meant that basically she didn't have to do anything, but could pretend that nothing had happened. She only hoped Snape would play along. And for the future they would just have to stick to a friendly but distanced relationship. _But can I do that? _She wondered. _Can I keep myself from teasing him, from trying to…to get closer to him?_ With some mortification she finally acknowledged that her increasing attempts to draw him out had not been as innocent as she had made herself think they were, but had in fact been careful attempts at flirting. _I have to stop that_, she thought angrily. _It's too dangerous, for both of us. Just look what has happened! _She felt a pang of guilt mixed with a lot of embarrassment at the thought what Snape might think of her strange behaviour. _I just hope he doesn't read too much into it – that's what you get from following your impulsive Gryffindor mentality, Hermione Granger! Stop acting like a silly schoolgirl, you're in the middle of a war, for God's sake!_

She shook her head in silent anger, trying to push all her confused emotions far away._ Stop it! _She commanded herself, determined to overcome this dangerous weakness._ This is neither the time nor place for soul searching. I'll explore my feelings when we've defeated Voldemort_. But there was a nagging voice she couldn't quite silence. _W__hat happens if there's no afterwards, if one of us is killed?_

Hermione was forcefully jerked from her thoughts when she suddenly saw Draco steering towards her.

"Miss Taylor," he said with his most charming smile, "would you do me the honour of dancing with me? If you're not otherwise engaged?"

Since she was standing there alone and didn't have a clue if and when Snape would ever come back, she could hardly refuse him. Shrugging internally she said "I'd be delighted," took Draco's arm and followed him onto the dance floor.

She had to admit that he was an excellent dancer and the dancing and his presence forced her to concentrate on something else than Snape, which was a great relief.

"So you've been to Hogwarts?" he asked, holding her a bit closer than she felt comfortable with.

Hermione nodded and tried to increase the distance between them. "Yes, I have. It's an impressive building."

"It certainly is." Draco paused for a few seconds. "Have you met the other teachers?"

"Yes, I have." Hermione replied, wondering if he was just making small talk or if he was getting somewhere.

"Then you probably also met Hermione Granger?"

Hermione nearly tripped over her own feet, but was lucky enough to get back into the rhythm immediately.

"The young woman with the bushy brown hair? Yes, I've met her." She looked at him searchingly, wondering what he aimed at with these questions.

"I heard she was in Diagon Alley the day of the bombing," Draco suddenly said.

There were emotions in his eyes, but Hermione didn't know how to read them. Surely Draco wasn't worrying about her safety?

"She was, but she was lucky and left before the bombs exploded."

A sudden spark lit up in Draco's eyes, but apart from that he didn't give any reaction.

"But you certainly knew that, didn't you?" Hermione added, confused by the whole conversation.

"No, I hadn't had any concrete information," he replied, looking over her shoulders and steering her in a new direction so that she couldn't catch the look on his face.

When Draco didn't say anything else, Hermione, still rather confused, decided to press on. "Have you been to school together? You two look roughly the same age."

"Yes, we have," Draco said, his attractive face suddenly contorting in the disdainful snarl Hermione knew so well. "But we weren't friends, if that's what you're getting at. Actually nobody liked her, she's an insufferable know-it-all, just ask Severus, she was getting on his nerves all the time. She's muggle-born, you know, and was best friends with Harry Potter, so she got a bit of reflected glory. She thinks she's Merlin's gift to the wizarding world, that she's so clever and brave and better than everyone else, when in reality she's just a filthy mudblood. But of course she was best friends with most of the teachers and Dumbledore, and so now she's back at Hogwarts where no doubt she'll try to corrupt whole generations of students with her muggle-attitudes."

Hermione was shocked by Draco's sudden rant which burst out of him as if a dam had broken. She very much wanted to kick him hard where it would really hurt, but since that was impossible she tried to give him a noncommittal smile. Suddenly a thought struck her, as improbable as logical, and made her stumble once again. _That's impossible, isn't it? _She thought, her mind reeling. _But that'd explain his behaviour, now and in the past. And now is probably the only occasion to find out. I have to ask him. _

Looking Draco straight in the eyes, Hermione said in a slightly mischievous voice, "I might be mistaken, but the way in which you go on and on about Miss Granger might be interpreted as a sign of secret attraction."

Now it was Draco's turn to trip over his own feet. "That's ridiculous," he spat, "I certainly never felt attracted to the filthy mudblood!" He looked at Hermione disdainfully, but she thought she saw a trace of fear and surprise in his eyes.

Still feeling thoroughly confused, she gave him a pacifying smile. "Then I've obviously misinterpreted you." _Draco? Having a crush on me?_ She thought, scrutinizing his still scowling face._ This evening is getting more and more confusing._

Their conversation was strained for the rest of the dance and when it ended Draco took his leave rather fast and hurried out of the room. _What is it with me today that I make all men run away_, Hermione thought sarcastically, not sure what to do now. If she stood around on her own she'd only draw unwanted attention to her. Looking around the room, she suddenly had the strange feeling that she was being observed, and when she glanced around she detected Snape standing behind a group of people in a corner, looking straight at her. She hesitated for a few moments, but there really was no alternative, and so she set out in his direction.

"I'm sorry," she said before even stopping next to him, wanting to get it over with quickly. "I was feeling sorry for you – which I know you don't like, so sorry for that as well – and I just acted on impulse."

He looked at her with the unreadable expression that always frustrated her so much, and then nodded. "I have to apologize," he said in a level voice. "I shouldn't have left you alone."

Hermione felt as if a stone dropped off her heart. _So it seems like we're back to normal again_, she thought, _or at least we can pretend we are_.

"I saw you dancing with Draco," Snape said, turning his gaze to the dancing couples. "I hope it wasn't an unpleasant experience."

"On the contrary," Hermione said, "it was very interesting. Listen, this may be a strange question, but do you know if Draco ever had a crush on me?"

"So you finally noticed?" Seeing her surprise, Snape gave her a rather smug smile.

"But why me?" Hermione shook her head in disbelief. "I just can't believe it, I mean I always thought he hated me, and when he spoke about me you'd think that I was the last person he'd ever consider being friends with."

"Well, that's also true," Snape said, obviously enjoying Hermione's confusion.

"Severus," she said with frustration, "explain it to me, I guess Draco's mind is just too warped for me to understand."

Snape gave a sigh. "In fact it's quite easy, you just have to consider what drives Draco – or most of the Slytherins for that matter. As you're well aware of, Draco is rather arrogant, ambitious and very sure of his station in life. In his opinion he deserves the best. That's of course also true when it comes to women. Now over the years at Hogwarts it became increasingly clear that the 'best' girl in his year was you – the most intelligent witch to study in Hogwarts for several decades, popular, friends with Harry Potter, Head Girl, attractive and courageous." Hermione felt herself blush and quickly looked down on her hands, not trusting herself to meet Snape's gaze.

"Draco of course noticed these qualities," he went on, "and he's clever enough to value them. The great problem, however, was that you're muggle-born. Thus on the one hand he subconsciously admired you and regarded you as his natural partner, while on the other hand he loathed you for what you are and for your connection with Potter. He was and is stuck in an insolvable dilemma."

"You know that's really twisted," Hermione said musingly, "but I guess you could be right." She paused for a few moments, replaying all kinds of encounters with Draco during their last years at school. "So this is the reason for his aggression against me and Ron?"

Snape nodded. "To a certain extent it is. Of course he would never have admitted it, but when you and Mr. Weasley seemed to come together he was furious. In his eyes you were the only girl which would have been worthy of him, but he only had Pansy Parkinson, and that was hardly an alternative. But obviously there was no way that he could ever have you. All he could do was pretend that he hated you, so that no one would ever suspect his attraction to you, and to hurt you and your friends as much as possible."

Hermione was silent for a few moments. "That's rather sad, you know. And a bit creepy as well." She shuddered unintentionally. "How long have you known?" she finally asked.

A satisfied smile tucked at Snape's lips. "I've probably known longer than Draco himself. I guess it started in your fourth year, when Victor Krum took you to the Yule Ball. When Draco recognized you with him, he was certainly as surprised as your friends Potter and Weasley. He went on about it for days. That Krum, whom he admired a lot, had chosen you made him aware of your true worth and sparked his interest and attraction, even if he didn't know it at that time. And it hasn't left him ever since."

Hermione looked at Snape, not trying to hide her admiration. "Severus Snape, you are a very observant person, and an excellent reader of character."

He looked rather smug. "I like to know what goes on with my students," he said, making her wonder how much he had observed about her. _But that's a question for another day,_ she thought, _for this evening I've certainly had enough excitement and world-altering revelations_.

They watched the dancers in silence for some time, Hermione deep in thought about Draco and the past, and Snape and the future.

"What about a dance?" She finally asked on an impulse, cursing herself immediately. _So that's your careful, non-teasing behaviour?_ She thought ruefully, admitting to herself that it was just too hard to resist. Snape turned towards her and raised an eyebrow, his lip curling into a faint smile. "What makes you think I'd want to dance without the threat of Sybill hanging over my head?"

She gave him a mischievous smile. "Because I think that deep down you like dancing – you wouldn't be such a good dancer if you didn't."

Snape inclined his head a little. "Touché," he said, the corner of his mouth twitching. He was looking at her intently, his face unreadable, his posture as always very upright and controlled. "Well, shall we?" He said after a few moments, offering her his arm.

As he swirled her across the dance floor Hermione was reminded of the ball before Christmas, and yet this was different. Now she was suddenly acutely aware of his hand holding hers and his long fingers at her waist, the structure of his face, the occasional sparkle in his dark eyes and the deep sound of his voice when he leaned closer to say something to her. She enjoyed it thoroughly, feeling very light as if she had drunk too much alcohol. But all the time there was a warning voice at the back of her head, saying_ Hermione, what are you doing?_

It was shortly after midnight when they said good-bye to the Malfoys and apparated back to Hogwarts.

"I wanted to ask you something," Hermione said on their way towards the castle.

"Go ahead," Snape replied rather guardedly.

_Don't worry_, Hermione thought, smiling in the dark. _I won't get all romantic all of a sudden_. "I would like to learn Occlumency," she said. "There might be situations when it'll be necessary to shield my mind, and I feel very inadequate about it. I wanted to ask if you'd teach me."

He was silent for a few moments, but then said. "It is a good idea. I will teach you. Shall we start tomorrow?"

"That would be great," Hermione replied, giving him a grateful smile. "Thank you, I know it's not pleasant for you."

"It isn't," he agreed, "but it'll be worth it if I know that you can shield your thoughts."

Hermione shot him a surprised glance, sudden warmth erupting inside her at the concern his words had betrayed. Or was she over-interpreting them? His face was shadowy in the darkness, guarded as always, and he looked straight ahead, ignoring her searching look.

When they arrived at the castle they went straight to Dumbledore's office, gave him the recording device and told him about their conversation with Micaelus and the news about Walter Watson. Hermione soon took her leave, but Snape stayed with the headmaster, claiming that he had other things to discuss with him. When Hermione finally sunk into her bed, glad to be rid of her shoes and to just lie down, she wondered if he had done it to avoid having to say good-bye to her when they were alone.

* * *

_I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I did writing it :-) - as always your thoughts are highly appreciated._


	16. Defences

**Defences**

Long, slender fingers softly caressed Hermione's neck and shoulders, sending shivers down her spine before entangling in the masses of wild hair cascading down her back … her fingers tenderly traced the line of his cheekbones and chin before starting to slowly unbutton his high-necked robes, her breath quickening and her heart pounding … his black eyes flashed and suddenly his hand which was still entangled in the hair behind her nape drew her head closer and their lips met with a hunger that…

RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRING!

Hermione groped for the alarm clock but when she had turned it off she just kept lying in her bed, her mind whirling, her heart still pounding with the aftermath of the dream.

_Brilliant_, she thought sarcastically, staring at the ceiling. _Now I'm having erotic dreams about Snape! That's exactly what I need._ Obviously the decision she had reached the night before – to let whatever strange feelings she had for him rest until the end of the war – hadn't really reached her subconsciousness.

She suddenly thought of her first Occlumency lesson that evening and panic flared up inside her. _If he sees this I won't be able to look him in the eyes ever again_, she thought. _Whatever happens, he mustn't get access to this dream – and anything else related to my current feelings for him, really... _For a moment Hermione thought about calling off her Occlumency instruction, but there was no convincing reason she could give Snape for this. It seemed that she just had to go through with it. _At least it's a good motivation for working really hard at closing my mind_, she thought wryly as she finally got out of bed and made her way to the shower.

When she looked into the bathroom mirror she found that she had changed back to her usual appearance. _I should have taken a picture_, she thought a bit wistfully. _Well, now it's back to plain old Hermione again_.

It was a Sunday and she didn't have any work scheduled with Snape until the evening. For Hermione it was a relief to have some time to come to terms with all the curious things that had happened the night before. And this meant not only her relationship with Snape, but also the revelations about Draco. When she arrived at breakfast – always a very drawn out affair on weekends – only Sprout and Lupin were there. She answered their curious questions about the night before, but told them that they'd get more information later in the morning at a meeting in Dumbledore's office.

When they met there, Dumbledore gave them transcripts of Micaelus's answers and Snape and Hermione told their colleagues a short and rather censored version of their conversation and the rest of the evening. Before the meeting had started Snape had asked her if there had been any side effects of the potion and charm he had used to alter her appearance, but apart from that he treated her as distanced as ever. Hermione, on the other hand, disconcertedly noticed a change in her perception of him. It was as if she was seeing him differently, suddenly noticing all kinds of little things that fascinated her. More than once she caught herself secretly stealing glances at him. _This has to stop immediately_, she thought exasperatedly. _I'm acting like a smitten school-girl! Get yourself together, Hermione Granger, or someone will notice._ And she resolutely fixed her eyes on Dumbledore and left them there for the rest of the meeting.

Afterwards Hermione set to work in the library to fix her mind on other things, and only left it in the late afternoon for her first lesson in Occlumency. Snape had told her to come to his office, a room Hermione had never liked particularly since the strange stuff in the bowls on the shelves made her feel uncomfortable. She had been wondering for some time now if he really liked it that way or if it just was part of his act. She very much hoped for the latter. When she arrived, feeling rather nervous, he made her sit down in a chair he'd put in the middle of the room, positioning himself about two meters away from her.

"I'm certain I don't have to tell you anything about Occlumency, as I'm convinced you've already read all there is to read about it."

Not quite sure if he was making fun of her, Hermione shrugged her shoulders. "Well yes, I have. I'm supposed to clear my mind of all thoughts and emotions, am I not? And to keep it empty while you try to get in?"

Snape nodded. "That is correct. It sounds easy, but you'll find it is not. To withstand a trained Legilimens for longer than a few minutes takes strength similar to that needed to resist the Imperius Curse. I'm not expecting you to accomplish much today," he added dispassionately, "but I'm sure you'll prove more gifted than Potter and manage well after some time. Now shall we start?"

Ignoring his jibe against Harry Hermione only nodded. "Shall I try to defend or shield me with my wand?"

Snape shook his head. "No, I know that you could do that well enough. And if you should ever be in a situation when a trained Legilimens or even the Dark Lord tries to break into your mind, you probably won't have your wand."

Hermione swallowed but nodded. "I'm ready," she said, trying to think of nothing at all and especially not of anything connected to the man standing in front of her, and stared into his dark eyes which were boring into hers.

_Legilimens! _

Although she tried to keep her mind absolutely empty, after only a few seconds the room started to dissolve in front of her eyes and finally vanished. Instead her mind was flooded by a rush of pictures and emotions: The first magic she remembered, when she'd made her stuffed toy cat fly as a three year old, herself laughing gleefully while her parents were looking on in shock – the feeling of great happiness when she'd got the letter from Hogwarts, finally knowing what it all meant and that she wasn't some aberration of nature – her telling the Sorting Hat that she'd rather be in Gryffindor than Ravenclaw – her unhappiness during her first weeks in Hogwarts when people had shunned her as an arrogant know-it-all – her joy when Harry and Ron had become her friends – scenes from lessons, especially from Potions when Snape had ignored her or worse sneered at her when all she had wanted was some approval – her sorrow because of that and the indignation and helpless fury she'd felt when he'd terrorized Harry and Neville and favoured the Slytherins…

Suddenly the flood of pictures vanished and Hermione was looking at Snape again, her head aching faintly. "You lost control," he said dispassionately. "You have to concentrate harder."

Hermione nodded, her mind whirling. "Sorry, I'm really trying." _Believe me, I'm really not keen on letting you see my memories, and my emotions even less_, she thought grimacing. In concentrating on withholding everything connected to her current feelings for him she had forgotten about her earlier memories. But that couldn't be helped now, and it wouldn't hurt him to experience first hand how he treated his students.

They started again. This time Hermione could keep her mind empty for about a minute before her defences broke down again and the whirl of pictures and emotions filled her mind: The second of shock when she'd seen the Basilisk – her sadness when she and Ron had quarrelled over Crookshanks and Scabbers – she, Harry and Ron facing Sirius in the Shrieking Shack – the Yule Ball – her kissing Victor clumsily – her kissing Ron passionately and with rather more practice, his fingers feverishly opening the buttons of her blouse, her heart pounding excitedly – _NO_, the thought cut through the onslaught of the pictures_, that's enough! Get out, GET OUT!_ She felt herself being pressed into the chair as if from a shockwave, and when she opened her eyes she saw that Snape had staggered back a few feet and was now leaning against the wall, panting.

"I'm sorry," she said, blushing violently and not looking in Snape's direction. Since she had concentrated on keeping her Snape-related feelings locked up she hadn't had enough power left to keep him from accessing other hardly less embarrassing memories – memories she certainly didn't want to share with him.

Hermione heard him come closer again. "You needn't be," he said in a strange voice, and when she dared to look up again she was surprised to see that he as well seemed a bit flustered and didn't meet her eyes. "It wasn't what I wanted you to do, but it was certainly effective." He now looked at her with curiosity. "How did you do it?"

Hermione shrugged her shoulders. "I've no idea. I just wanted you out, and I guess I mentally pushed you away."

He grimmaced. "You certainly did. It's a valuable ability, and we'll try to work on it later. But first you have to learn to keep your mind empty, no matter how hard I try to get into it." He paused. "You had enough power to push me back when the memories I accessed got … too private." Hermione felt herself blush again and there was a strange look in Snape's eyes. "Now try to draw on that power to keep me out in the first place, even if the memories I'm trying to access are trivial."

She nodded and they set to work again. This time she could keep him out for nearly three minutes until memories flooded her mind once more. As soon as her defences had broken down, Snape broke the contact. They went on practicing for nearly an hour, and in the end Hermione managed to withstand Snape's attack for more than five minutes. He also hadn't gained access to any embarrassing memories and emotions anymore, something Hermione was very glad for, although she didn't know if it was due to her abilities or to his restraint.

Her head was pounding like mad and she felt terribly exhausted, but proud of herself. For their first lesson this hadn't been too bad. Snape seemed satisfied as well. "That was a promising start – no comparison to Potter," he grimaced. "We'll continue tomorrow."

"Thanks, Severus," Hermione got up, ready to leave. She gave him a slightly anguished smile. "I think I'll take a headache potion now."

"That's probably a good idea." He hesitated and finally said in a quiet voice. "Hermione… I am sorry I treated you like that…when I was your teacher…" He paused and looked at her intently with an unreadable expression in his dark eyes. "You were the best student I ever had."

Hermione was so surprised she was at a loss for words. "Oh…thank you," she finally said softly, a smile lighting up her face. "That means a lot to me." And she turned and left the laboratory. Walking down the corridor, Hermione hardly noticed her headache. There was a great smile on her face and she felt happier than she had for a long time.

**...**

Hermione trained Occlumency with Snape every day for the next ten days, and in the end was not only able to keep him out entirely, but also to control which memories – real or false – he could see and to selectively shut down feelings and memories that contradicted them. They also worked on her ability to push him out so that he was not longer able to remain in her mind in the first place. It was exhausting for both of them, but her progress was quicker and greater than they had expected, and although Snape was as stingy with praise as ever he couldn't quite hide his surprise at her powers.

Hermione enjoyed the sessions in spite of their strenuousness. They gave her the confidence that she would hopefully be able to withstand any attempts to invade her mind, and moreover they were an excuse to spend more time with Snape. Hermione was well aware that she was more than happy about that, but tried never to let it show. Although he usually was as guarded as ever, Hermione managed to draw Snape out from time to time, and was nearly certain that he enjoyed their meetings as well.

It was at breakfast five days after their first Occlumency lesson that Voldemort's next move became apparent. As every day, Hermione got the _Daily Prophet_ by owl and opened the paper to give the front page a cursory glance. She would read it thoroughly some time during the day. But this time the headline and the picture beneath it made her pause. _This is it_, she thought, a feeling of chill taking hold of her body as she read the article. _And how clever of him, he doesn't even need the real thing anymore_.

Lupin, who was sitting next to her, noticed that something was not right and asked "What's the matter, Hermione? Anything bad in the paper?"

She showed him the front page and his eyes grew wide with understanding. "Well," he said slowly, "we knew something was going to happen sooner or later." They both looked around at the students, some of whom were staring at the paper, heated conversations erupting everywhere, and at McGonagall who also held the newspaper and was looking up, meeting their glances with a steely look in her eyes.

"What is it?" Flitwick asked, and Hermione passed him the _Daily Prophet_. It showed a picture of a rather ordinary looking man whom Hermione recognized as Walter Watson, the new head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and rising man in Voldemort's employ, looking rather seriously into the camera. The headline read _New Muggle-Bombs Discovered – Are Muggle-Borns Involved?_ The article reported that a special task force of the Ministry, established by Walter Watson, had detected two muggle-bombs in critical places. Luckily, however, they could be defused before anyone was harmed. It was at yet unclear if You-Know-Who was involved, but a group of muggle-borns were held for questioning.

"Voldemort doesn't even need real bombs anymore," Hermione said to Lupin. "With the Ministry and this new task force behind him Watson can claim that he found as many bombs as he wants, and put the blame on whoever Voldemort tells him to."

Lupin nodded. "And he is obviously trying to blame the muggle-borns." He looked worriedly. "This is bad, Hermione. And there is practically nothing we can do about it. Fudge will never believe Dumbledore that Watson is a Death Eater, and even if he would and would try to sack him, I'm certain that he'd end up dead or sick and we would have Watson as the next Minister."

During the next days there were more reports of bombs found and attacks impeded in the _Daily Prophet_. The paper celebrated Walter Watson as the savior of the wizarding world, presenting him as a forceful and capable leader in such difficult times and implying that he was doing what Fudge should have done. As Hermione and her friends knew from Arthur Weasley, this didn't necessarily reflect the opinion within the Ministry itself. Watson and his task force were a very secretive set, and no one apart from them had actually seen any of the alleged bombs or knew where they were supposed to have been found. According to the _Daily Prophet_ this secrecy was necessary for security reasons, but Arthur Weasley told them that there were enough Ministry employees who found the whole thing rather fishy. None of them, however, dared to say as much in public.

The news about the bombs renewed speculations about Voldemort's possible connections to muggle terror groups. Some people also voiced the idea that Voldermort perhaps wasn't involved at all, but that these new incidents were the works of muggle and muggle-born conspirators. Articles appeared in the _Daily Prophet_ arguing that there was a dangerous divide within wizarding society between the few pureblood families who held most of wealth and power, and the multitude of wizards with a mixed or muggle background which were sometimes still suffering from discrimination. They also implied that this would be reason enough for some people to use violent means to destabilize society. There were some who called for stronger policing of muggle-borns and half-blods, and although these demands were as yet only supported by a minority, Hermione knew that that could change very quickly.

The reports of new bombs brought new unrest to Hogwarts. As right after Christmas there were some nasty comments and quarrels among the students, and the atmosphere in the corridors and at the meals was rather tense. Even the choir and drama group, which Hermione had hoped would help further a feeling of community among the students, were affected, and Flitwick told her that two of his Slytherin participants had quitted the drama group because they didn't want to act with mudbloods. A sudden mistrust of everything connected with muggles ran through all the houses, but the Slytherins were especially vocal in harassing muggle-born students.

"I know you can't do much without risking your cover," she told Snape one day when they were working at one of Micaelus's potions, "but I really wished someone would tell them to stop behaving like gits. Someone they respect and listen to. Otherwise I swear one of these days I'll just hex the lot of them."

Snape, who was carefully stirring an amber potion, snorted. "I doubt if they'd listen to me. Most of them grew up being told that pure-bloods are superior and everyone else just filth, and it'll take more than my silver tongue or your certainly great proficiency in hexes and jinxes to change that opinion."

"What I don't understand," Hermione said with frustration in her voice, forcefully cutting some roots for Snape, "is the irrationality of the whole thing. I mean no one can deny that we need to intermarry with muggles and to take up muggle-born wizards and witches. Without them, wizarding society would die out in a few generations due to inbreeding. So even the dumbest inbred pure-blood should realize that it'd be the death of their world if they forbid marrying muggles or admitting muggle-borns to Hogwarts."

Snape reached for a phial containing something which looked suspiciously like blood and carefully added three drops to his potion which immediately began to steam. "You are certainly right, but I'm afraid when it comes to muggles pure-bloods often don't think logically. Fear confuses their powers of judgement."

"You mean they are afraid because there are so few left of them and so many muggle-borns and half-bloods?" Hermione asked.

"Yes," Snape nodded. "And of course they are aware that the whole wizard population is greatly outnumbered by muggles in general, which is a disconcerting thought as well. And they are increasingly afraid of your knowledge."

Hermione furrowed her brow. "What do you mean?"

Snape took up a succession of other phials, adding drops in what looked like a complex and graceful choreography. When the potion turned a bright turquoise, a look a pleasure crossed over his face for a moment. Hermione watched him with guilty fascination. During the last weeks she had observed several times how his carefully guarded mask and the tenseness of his body relaxed when he was absorbed in his work. It was a surprising transformation and ever since their night at the Malfoys' Hermione had to force herself not to get lost in watching him doing what he obviously enjoyed so much.

"For the pure-bloods the muggle world is something deeply foreign," Snape explained. "They know it exists, but they claim not to be interested in it and to despise it. Consequently, most of them have only a rather sketchy knowledge of it, and even those who are genuinely interested in it don't understand most of it – just think of Arthur Weasley."

Hermione smiled while thinking of Ron's father and his touching attempts to understand muggles.

"Until recently that lack of knowledge didn't really bother most of them. They thought that muggles were harmless and to be pitied because of their lack of magic. Ever since the bombings in Diagon Alley, however, it was forcefully brought home to them that muggles can be very dangerous indeed. For the first time they have fully realized that even if muggles don't have magic, they have nevertheless found some very creative and highly efficient ways of killing each other. When the pure-bloods started to take interest in muggle-technology, they were surprised by the power they found – and deeply bewildered because it's something so very foreign to them. But it isn't to you," he suddenly looked her straight in the eyes, "and to other muggle-borns and most half-bloods. And that's what worries them. You are moving in both worlds, you can use magic as well as muggle-technology, and that makes them very much afraid."

Hermione had stopped chopping. "So the Slytherins' aggression against us is basically a sign of insecurity?"

Snape smiled wryly. "Some of it certainly is. They would never admit it, of course."

Hermione was lost in thoughts for a few minutes. "It must be very hard to be a half-blood or even muggle-born student in Slytherin," she mused finally, furrowing her brow. "Come to think of it, I don't know if I know of any at all, apart from Voldemort himself. But there must be some, surely."

Snape didn't reply for some time. "You know at least one more," he finally said with something like bitter mirth. Hermione looked at him in confusion, but his eyes were fixed on the potion he was still stirring carefully.

"You mean," she said haltingly, "you are a half-blood?"

"Indeed I am." He looked up, his face very composed.

Hermione's head was spinning. Based on his behaviour and his associations she'd always thought he came from an old pure-blood family. But his being a half-blood changed this image completely. It explained why he had been so good in dressing as a muggle when they had done research in St Andrews, and it might also explain some of his behaviour and why he had become a Death Eater. _A half-blood in Slytherin_, she thought. _You probably had a hard time, and probably you tried very hard to belong, even if that meant joining Voldermort… And when you finally became a Death Eater that meant that you, even as a half-blood, had been accepted. And that now you were in a position of power…_

Snape watched her intently. "Are you trying to analyze me?" he finally asked sardonically.

Hermione felt caught. "I'm just surprised. I always thought you were pure-blood." She hesitated. "Have you ever felt caught between the two worlds?"

Snape looked surprised at her question. "Not really," he snorted. "It was my father who was the muggle, and let's just say he wasn't a very friendly man. There was nothing which tied me to the muggle-world." His eyes suddenly narrowed suspiciously. "But I'm sure Potter told you about that."

Hermione looked at him in confusion. "Harry? Why should he know anything about your father, or tell me about it?"

Snape stayed silent for a few moments, scrutinizing her face. "So it seems he hasn't told you after all," he said with something like surprise. He hesitated. "During our Occlumency lessons Potter once got access to some of my childhood memories. They weren't pleasant."

"I'm sorry," Hermione said softly. _So you not only are a half-blood, but also had a hard childhood_,she thought._ If I were a psychiatrist that'd really explain a lot. _

Snape's mouth twitched, showing how little he cared for sympathies. "You needn't be," he said flatly, and returned his attention to his potion. Hermione took this as a sign that the conversation was over and went on cutting ingredients, wondering not for the first time what had happened to make him the man he was.

**...**

One late afternoon at the end of March Hermione unexpectedly found Ron waiting in front of her door when she returned from working at the library.

"Ron," she called out worriedly as soon as she'd spotted him. "Is everything all right?"

"Don't worry," he replied, giving her a reassuring smile, "I just wanted to see you."

"Well then, just come in and sit down." Hermione said rather puzzled and let him into her rooms. "Care for some tea?"

He nodded and she prepared cups for him and herself, then sat down opposite of him. Ron was obviously rather nervous, he fidgeted in his chair and looked around without meeting her gaze.

"What's the matter, Ron?" Hermione finally asked when he still hadn't said anything.

He gulped visibly. "Nothing bad. Harry and Ginny and all the rest are fine."

"I'm glad to hear it," Hermione said, still puzzled by his strange behaviour.

"And how are you?" he suddenly asked, obviously relived to have found something to say.

"I'm fine as well." Hermione replied. "Listen Ron, it's great to see you, but I'm sure you haven't come up here just to make small talk."

He gave her a rueful smile. "Sorry, I know I'm not good at this, and I don't know how to start. But I had the feeling I had to tell you, and I'm sorry, but it just happened, and I know it's kind of bad, even if we two never, you know, really hit it, and now I just thought…"

Realization dawned on Hermione. "You have a girlfriend?" she cut in on his flood of words.

Ron looked shocked for a few seconds and then smiled apologetically. "How did you know?"

"It wasn't so hard once you started apologizing," Hermione said wryly. She felt strange, but not really bad. Of course she'd known that this day would come sooner or later, and she'd wondered how she'd feel about it. She had long ago come to the realization that she and Ron, although they felt deeply for each other and were great friends, were terrible lovers. In the few months they had been together she had had to realize that they were just too different. She could never share his enthusiasm for Quidditch, and his intellectual curiosity never exceeded what was needed for school or Auror training. So now he finally had found someone he wanted to be with… Hermione felt a tiny stab, but less of jealousy than of loneliness. _Life goes on, doesn't it?_ she thought wistfully. But deep down she knew that she was happy for Ron. He'd suffered enough in the last months, and she was glad he wasn't alone anymore.

Ron was looking at her anxiously, obviously not sure if she would start crying or try to strangle him. Hermione just gave him a reassuring smile. "I'm glad for you," she said. He looked rather relieved and grinned at her sheepishly. "And it's very sweet of you to tell me," she added. "Quite awkward, wasn't it?"

"You bet," he said with emphasis. "You know, I just thought you should know about it." He looked at her rather seriously. "And I wanted to tell you that it won't change anything about my feelings for you. You know I like you very much, we just weren't a good couple."

Hermione gave him a sarcastic smile. "Rather disastrous, if I remember correctly. Just think of the time when you took me to this Quidditch fan club meeting."

Ron laughed out loud. He seemed visibly happy now and Hermione felt glad for him. It had been hard for him to come and tell her, and she was touched by his concern. "So who is she?" she asked to steer him away from worrying about her feelings.

"Her name is Alexandra Eminescu. Her father is Rumanian and her mother English, and she went to Durmstrang. I met her when Harry and I were in Rumania last November, and we went out a few times, but nothing much happened. But then she got a job at the Department of International Magical Cooperation a month ago, and we started seeing each other again, and well...it just happened." He paused. "At first I felt a bit strange – you know, because of Fred and George – but I reckon they wouldn't want me to live like a monk, and so I just went for it."

Hermione nodded with understanding. "That's certainly right. They'd loved teasing you about her."

Ron smiled sadly. "I wished they could have... Well, would you like to see a picture?"

"Sure". Hermione gave him an encouraging smile and he pulled out a much handled picture of a nice looking young woman with short blond hair and an open friendly face standing in front of what was obviously a Quidditch pitch.

"So she shares your obsession with Quidditch?" Hermione asked teasingly.

"Yeah, she was Chaser at Durmstrang. She's a great girl, I'm sure you'll like her."

"I'm looking forward to meeting her," Hermione said with sincerity. "And I'm really glad you've found her. You seem happy."

"I am," Ron grinned broadly. "Especially now I've told you. Not that I was worried you'd take it badly, you know, I just didn't want to hurt you."

"You haven't," Hermione reassured him. "Life goes on and I've always known that this would happen one day."

Ron nodded slowly. "Still, I know I'd feel a bit queasy if you had a new fella." He gave her a scrutinizing look. "You haven't, have you?"

"No," Hermione shook her head. "Not many available around here, you know."

Ron grinned. "I guess not. Lupin is a nice chap, but I guess he's too old and anyway, there's Tonks. And all the others are ancient, apart from Snape, but that's out of the question of course." He shuddered visibly and Hermione felt a sudden stab. "There was a time when I thought Neville had a crush on you, but I guess he's happy with Luna now."

"He definitely is. Well, I guess I'll just have to wait for Mr. Right."

"Yeah. I just hope you're as lucky as I was."

"So do I." Thinking that they'd now discussed her love life long enough she asked "Are you staying for dinner? It'll start in half an hour and I'm sure the others would be happy to see you?"

"Sure, why not. Dinner would be great." Ron's eyes misted over at the thought of Hogwarts food, and Hermione's mouth twitched. _He'll never change_, she thought affectionately, listening to his news about his family and trying not to think of how disgusted he had been when he had imagined a relationship between her and Snape.

**...**

When they arrived at the teachers' table Ron was enthusiastically greeted by all except Snape, who only gave him a short nod. During dinner Hermione found that Snape was shooting them searching glances several times, but neither did she talk to him nor did Snape say anything. After dinner she, Ron, Neville and Luna retired to Lupin's rooms and spent hours in animated talk. It got rather late, and finally Ron decided not to return home, but to spend the night in Neville's quarters.

In the morning Hermione said goodbye to Ron after breakfast and then hurried to Snape's laboratory to work with him on one of Micaelus's potions. Thanks to his information they now had a better idea how it should look like, but it still would need a lot of experimenting till they'd finally have the right result.

Already at breakfast Snape had looked rather grumpy, and when Hermione entered the laboratory she found him putting down ingredients on their worktables with rather more force than necessary, his movements betraying tension and pent up fury.

_Great_, she thought resignedly. _Whatever has bitten him now, this won't be fun_. She thought about asking him point-blank what was the matter, but then decided to wait and see.

"You're late," he barked when she'd closed the door.

"I'm sorry," she said in a soothing voice. "I just said good-bye to Ron."

"I thought so," he replied, not softened at all. "Get over here, we've got work to do."

_This is really going to be fun_, she thought sarcastically while walking over to their worktables. Snape was still swirling around the laboratory furiously, getting ever new ingredients out of cupboards and shelves and banging them down in front of her, shooting angry glances in her direction whenever she tried to catch his eyes.

_What the hell is going on here_, Hermione thought, irritated. _He's not angry with me, is he?_ But when during the next hour the only thing she got from him were angry looks and biting remarks, she had to admit that she seemed indeed to be the cause of his anger.

Racking her brain how on earth she had made him so angry, the only thing remotely possible seemed to be Ron's visit. But he and Snape hadn't even talked to each other, and a mere visit would hardly explain this fury. Suddenly she remembered the picture Snape had seen in her mind of her and Ron kissing passionately while he was unbuttoning her blouse. Hermione blushed. Snape wouldn't think she and Ron were still together, would he? And even if he did, why should that make him so angry?

There was of course a very good explanation why this should be the case, an explanation which made Hermione blush even more violently and gave her a queasy but not altogether unpleasant warm feeling in her stomach. She shot a quick glance in Snape's direction. Could it be he was jealous of Ron? The thought seemed absolutely ludicrous, but if he was really angry with her that was the only explanation she could come up with.

Lost in her thoughts, Hermione unwittingly started stirring her potion counter-clockwise. Suddenly an icy "What are you thinking you're doing?" tore her out of her reveries. When she looked up from her steaming cauldron, she found Snape glowering at her.

Realization kicked in, and she drew in her breath. _Bugger_. "I'm so sorry, Severus, I forgot that it's supposed to be stirred clockwise." Sighing internally she pointed her wand at the now useless potion and said _Evanesco_.

"If you're not able to concentrate properly, you should perhaps stop working for today." Snape told her coolly, his face full of disdain.

Hermione felt irritated. She'd made a mistake, but he knew very well that usually her work was impeccable. "I'm sorry, it won't happen again."

Snape didn't look softened at all. His eyes were very dark and suppressed anger radiated from his tense body and his jerking movements. A year ago his behaviour would probably have reduced Hermione to storming out of the laboratory in tears, but she wasn't intimidated any more, she just felt irritation and more and more anger.

Deciding to just ignore him, she reached for the ingredients to start brewing the potion anew. Suddenly he grabbed her right wrist, stopping her hand before she could pour salamander blood into her cauldron. "There is no salamander blood in this potion," he hissed, holding her wrist so hard it hurt.

Hermione now felt truly angry. "You very well know we've talked about trying it out instead of toad blood." Her voice sounded irritable. "Please let go of my arm, you're hurting me." For a second he didn't move, but then released her wrist, his eyes still burning furiously into hers.

"I don't remember talking about salamander blood," he said flatly. "If you are unable to brew these potions correctly, perhaps we should stop these sessions altogether. You are no help to me and I'm close to finding the correct recipes anyway."

Hermione looked at him thunderstruck, not knowing how to react to this. She still felt angry, but above all confused and sad. "Severus, what is going on here?" she asked, her voice quivering. "Have I done anything to anger you? If I've done something, I'm sorry, but I really don't know what it could be. Or has anything else happened? Is it about Voldemort, about your work for the Order? Please tell me, perhaps I can help you."

The second she said it she knew it had been a very bad idea. Snape's face contorted in anger and he stared at her silently for several moments, very rigid and obviously trying to keep all the emotions which seemed to be boiling inside him under control.

"Always asking questions," he finally snarled in an icy voice. "Ms Hermione Granger, the greatest know-it-all Hogwarts ever had. You think you can get an answer to everything, don't you? And you believe that when you only ask the right question and get the right answer everything will be fine, and that people will be glad with your meddling with their lives. But I'm not your Fisher King, I need neither your questions not your pity."

His voice and face were full of rage and other emotions Hermione couldn't interpret. She felt tears welling up inside her, tears of anger and of sadness. _How could it have come to this_, she thought with desperate confusion. _Why does he hurt me like this? Whatever is the matter with him?_

"I think I'll better go now," she said quietly, staring into his burning eyes and feeling a single hot tear run down her right cheek. She went slowly to the door, walking very upright, but as soon as she was alone in the corridor she clapped her hand over her mouth to stifle her sobs. Hermione hurried to her rooms and threw herself on her bed, crying into her pillow. _However did this happen_, she thought while hot tears streamed down her face and she felt a terrible pain in her chest. _However did this happen_.

* * *

_Fisher King: In some versions of the Grail legend (Wolfram von Eschenbachs _Parzival_ for example) Percival could have cured the ailing Fisher King from his illness if he had just asked him about it._


	17. Caught

_Thanks a lot for all the positive reviews! I hope you like this chapter as well - enjoy!_

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**Caught**

Hermione stayed in her rooms all day long, feeling sad and confused. Why had Snape acted like that? And why was she so affected by it? He had treated her badly before – basically most of the time she had known him – but while she had felt hurt in the past she had never been so sad about it. Sometimes anger built up inside her about the way he had treated her, and she welcomed it because it chased away the sadness at least for some time. And then there was anger at herself, at being so much affected by how a horrible warped misanthropist was behaving towards her, and at having become so entangled in strange and hopeless emotions.

In the afternoon Hermione decided to pull herself together and at least attend dinner to prevent her friends from coming and looking for her. She dreaded meeting Snape, but he luckily didn't show up. Lupin asked her if she was alright when he saw her listlessly pushing around the food on her plate, but she told him that she'd caught a cold and he was satisfied.

When she returned to her rooms, she sat at her windows for nearly an hour, staring out into the darkness and hardly noticing the cold of the glass and the stone wall. Then Hermione set out for Dumbledore's office.

She found him reading a rather trashy looking novel, but he put it away immediately and offered her the customary sweet. When she accepted he raised an eyebrow and looked at her attentively.

"How can I help you, Hermione?" He asked gently.

"You know we talked about me doing some research in the Ministry library?" Hermione said, trying not to look as weary as she felt.

Dumbledore nodded. "You said there was a book we didn't have here – _Zombies, Revenants and Draugrs_,wasn't it? – but which was available at the Ministry."

"Yes. If it's possible I'd like to go tomorrow."

Dumbledore looked surprised. "That's a rather spontaneous decision, isn't it?" Hermione stared down on her hands, not able to face his searching look. "Well," he said after a few moments, "it can certainly be arranged. I'll call Elektra immediately." His eyes were full of friendly concern. "Will one day be sufficient for your research or do you need more time?"

Thinking fast, Hermione said "Two days would be great. They have several other books I'd like to look at." _You're a coward_, a tiny voice said in her mind. _You know you can't run away forever_. _No_, another voice said, _but at least I can for two days. And then we'll see._

Dumbledore shot her a glance which was suspiciously understanding, and for a moment Hermione was sure that he knew everything. _You're getting paranoid_, she thought, eyeing the headmaster who had stood up and was going over to his fireplace suspiciously.

"If you're staying over night, will you need accommodation?" he asked while going down on his knees in front of the fire.

"No," Hermione shook her head. "I'll stay with a muggle-friend. Christine, the one I stayed with when Diagon Alley was attacked."

Dumbledore nodded and took up some Floo Powder from a small box on the mantelpiece. He chucked it into the flames, said 'Elektra Anistaphala's office' very clearly, and then thrust his head into the brilliant green flames.

Hermione always found it disconcerting to watch someone who was using the Floo Network for communication. There was something rather strange in seeing a headless body crouched down on its knees, half-thrust into green fire. After a few minutes Dumbledore's head reappeared and he got up with surprising vigour for a man his age, brushing tiny specks of ash from his robes.

"I talked to Elektra and she will arrange everything," he told her when he had sat down in his chair again. "She expects you in her office at half past nine." Once again his bright blue eyes looked at her intently. "Is everything all right, Hermione?" He asked softly.

Hermione felt caught and gave him a smile she feared was less then convincing. "Sure, I'm just excited about the research."

Dumbledore's gaze never left her face, his eyes so full of sympathy that for a split second Hermione was close to just telling him everything.

"I'll have to go now", she finally said. "I'll see you when I get back."

"Have a good time in London, Hermione." Dumbledore said with a melancholy smile. "And if you find the time, could you get me some pralines? Just take whatever catches your fancy."

Hermione's mouth twitched. "I'll see what I can do."

**...**

Hermione travelled to the Ministry via Floo after breakfast the next morning. She still hadn't seen Snape again, which was a relief but at the same time also a bit worrying. Well, let the others lose sleep about him for the next two days. She had work to do and was looking forward to it and the possibility to spend some time with Christine.

Having checked in at the Atrium of the Ministry, she made her way to Anistaphala's office. The elder woman greeted her with a friendly smile and once again Hermione felt a twinge of guilt at the fact that they still hadn't told her about Micaelus's book. But that was Dumbledore's decision, not hers.

"That's an interesting book you're looking for", Anistaphala said after they had exchanged a few courtesies. _Zombies, Revenants and Draugrs_ – rather a dark subject, isn't it?

She eyed Hermione searchingly, and Hermione wondered if she suspected that they were withholding something from her. Trying to appear as unconcerned and innocent as possible, she presented the story Dumbledore and she had thought up. "I'm working on an article on Undead creatures for a book Professor Lupin intends to edit", she said. "He thought it'd be a good chance for me to get something published, and it's an interesting subject. But I'll also look for a few other book which I need for an Old English Sleeping Charm I found in one of the books from the vault."

Anistaphala smiled benignly. "It's good that you try to pursue an academic career. I could read your article when you're finished with it, if you want to."

Hermione smiled a bit forcedly. "That's very generous of you. But I don't know yet when it'll be finished, with Voldemort and everything…"

The elder woman nodded understandingly. "Certainly. Just owl it to me when you're finished. Now we…"

She never finished that sentence, stopped by a muffled blast which shook the building. When the shaking stopped, confused and panicky voices sounded outside, and Hermione felt her pulse quickening.

Anistaphala appeared remarkably calm. "Let's find out what that was", she said in a pressed voice as she got up and went to open the door. Hermione hurried after her, but found only confused and worried looking people in the corridor.

"Is this an attack?" a young, rather nervous looking wizard asked her. "Another of those muggle bombs? Should we leave the building?" But Hermione could only shake her head and tell him that she didn't have a clue. _I just hope it's not another bomb_, she thought worriedly, trying to find someone who looked as if they knew what was going on.

After a few minutes in which people were discussing what had happened and if it was better to stay were they were or to leave, Hermione suddenly spotted Anistaphala at the end of the corridor. She was pointing her wand to her throat and then said in a booming voice which drowned the other conversations, "Don't worry, this isn't an attack. I have just been informed that there was an accident in the Experimental Charms Bureau." There were relieved sighs at this information, coupled with a few laughs. "You know these chaps", an elderly witch told a rather plump and bald wizard who stood next to Hermione, "they're blowing up things from time to time." But Anistaphala's voice cut in once more. "Unfortunately it seems that two persons have been injured. I'll keep you informed as soon as I get more information. Now please return to your offices."

Worried conversations started again when Anistaphala had ended. She however only looked around for Hermione, and when she had spotted her gave her a sign to follow her. Quickly fetching her bag, Hermione hurried after the elder woman. "Unfortunately these accidents happen from time to time," Anistaphala told her as they headed for the library. "In the past people hardly took noticed when something shook the building, but after those bombs…"

Hermione thought of her own shock and worries and could understand them well enough. "But you have anti-explosive wards now, don't you?" She knew that Dumbledore had shared some of the anti-explosive wards they had developed to ward targets like the Ministry and St Mungo's.

Anistaphala nodded. "We have, but as you'll agree you don't think about that in the shock of the moment. And people are afraid of these muggle weapons and unsure if there really can be a protection against them."

_And right they are_, Hermione thought grimly as she walked through the corridors of the Ministry which were still filled with worried witches and wizards.

**...**

It was early afternoon when Hermione left the Ministry of Magic and headed towards the nearest tube station. Winter had suddenly returned with a vengeance and she struggled against a ghastly wet wind which was howling down the streets.

She had found what she was looking for faster than expected, and now planned to spend the afternoon doing some shopping before she'd head towards Christine's flat. Hermione had phoned her in the morning, and although Christine had sounded surprised she had been happy to have her over for the night. Tomorrow she would go back to the Ministry for further work and return to Hogwarts in the evening.

Walking through muggle London, her head filled with the information from her reading, Hermione already felt much better. Perhaps her reaction to what had happened had been exaggerated? If Snape was angry it certainly was neither her fault nor her problem. How could she have got so dragged into his obviously twisted psyche? It was good for her to be away from him, to get a clear perspective on what had happened. She certainly wouldn't let his behaviour make her unhappy like this in the future! What was he thinking in the first place! She wasn't his punching ball, and if he didn't realize what a good relationship they had had, it was his fault and not hers, and his loss!

After three hours Hermione had done with shopping and facing the cold wind and took the tube to Christine's flat. When she arrived there her friend opened the door, smiling broadly and obviously happy to see Hermione. "Come in! How was the shopping?"

Hermione stepped through the door, got rid of her bags and jacket and sank down on the comfortable sofa. "Quite successful. As you can imagine the shopping opportunities around Hogwarts are somewhat limited, so I had to get a lot of stuff."

"I can see that," Christine remarked looking at the number of bags Hermione had brought with her.

"Never mind," Hermione said. "I'll shrink them before I leave. I just didn't want to do it in public."

"You're lucky," Christine sighed. "I wish I could do that. Well, would you like something to drink? I have tea, coke and orange juice."

"Tea would be great, thanks. I really need something warm after walking around in this ghastly weather."

Christine vanished into the small kitchen and Hermione stood up and looked around the living room. It looked so – well – so normal. Just like a muggle flat owned by a young woman should look like. No strange objects, no moving pictures. In a way it was soothing. For some moments Hermione imagined what it would feel like to have a flat like this. It didn't happen often, but sometimes she felt torn between the two worlds, neither completely belonging to one nor the other. And sometimes she thought what might have been if she hadn't been born with a talent for magic.

Her thoughts were disturbed when Christine came back from the kitchen, precariously carrying two cups of tea and a plate with biscuits.

"You're a star, Christine, I'm starving. – Hm," she had bitten in one of the chocolate coated biscuits, "they're delicious. What brand are they?"

Christine smiled. "I'm afraid they're not available here. My brother brought them over from Belgium. But I knew that you'd like them. Tuck in, there are more in the kitchen."

"I definitely will. How about you?"

"No thanks, I've already had several before you came. Now, how are things up north?"

Hermione started to tell as much as she was allowed to, sipping the tea and eating several more of the delicious biscuits. But somehow she found it hard to concentrate, and as soon as Christine was talking her mind started wandering.

"Sorry, what did you say?" Christine had clearly asked her something, but she couldn't recall any of the words.

"Are you all right? You look rather exhausted." Christine asked worriedly.

"I am, actually." Hermione yawned. "Must be the shopping." She felt very tired and just couldn't stop yawning. Her movements, too, were strangely sluggish. _Surely I'm not that exhausted?_ she thought worriedly, trying to throw off the strange tiredness that had gripped her. All of a sudden there were dots and streaks in her vision. "Christine?" Her voice sounded anxious, but far away. "I'm afraid there's something wrong with me." She tried to get up, now truly afraid, her vision growing more and more blurred, her head suddenly too heavy to hold up. The last thing she saw before she lost consciousness was Christine's triumphant smile, and Hermione felt a cold hand closing around her heart.

**...**

When Hermione woke up she found herself in cold and damp darkness. Her head hurt rather badly and it took a few moments before she remembered what had happened. Then realization hit her. That person couldn't have been Christine… It must have been someone transformed by Polyjuice Potion… And they had obviously drugged and kidnapped her…

Hermione felt for her wand and when she didn't find it panic flared up inside her. Frantically groping around in the darkness, she found that she was lying on something which felt like a sleeping bag which lay on a floor of stamped earth. To her right she felt a rough wall made out of large stones. When she got up and raised her arms she could reach the ceiling which seemed to consist of rough wooden planks. Leaving the sleeping bag and feeling along the stone wall, it took her only three steps to reach another wall. She followed this and after five steps hit upon a construction which seemed to be a wooden ladder. Stepping onto the first step she could feel a trapdoor above her, but as she had expected it was locked.

All in all it seemed that she had been chucked into a small and rather primitive cellar. Hermione began to bang against the trapdoor, shouting to let her out. After a few moments of banging and shouting, she heard the angry voice of a man: "Stop it and get away from the trapdoor, or I'll shoot you!"

For a moment Hermione thought of staying on the step, trying to get out as soon as the trapdoor was opened, but then decided not to risk it and stepped down. When the door opened, she was blinded by the sudden light. Once her eyes had adapted to it, she saw a short, athletic looking man in his early forties standing above her, aiming at her with a gun and throwing something at her feet.

"Food" he said. "Listen, I won't hurt you if you don't make any problems. So just stay nice and quiet."

Hermione's head was swirling. This obviously wasn't a wizard. "Why are you keeping me imprisoned? And why are you working for Voldemort? Please let me go, you don't have any idea who you're dealing with, and if you don't get away from him as soon as possible he'll kill you."

He seemed to hesitate for a moment, but then just gave a snort and made to close the trap door again. "You waste your breath, girl. The money is good and that's all I need to know."

Feeling terribly helpless Hermione saw the light vanishing as the door shut again. She knelt down to get the food he had thrown her, and found a plastic bottle of water and the characteristic triangular wrapping of a supermarket sandwich. Feeling her way through the darkness back to the sleeping bag, Hermione sat down on it and forced herself to eat. She felt more like throwing up than eating, but she knew that she'd have to keep up her strength.

More than once her panic threatened to overpower her. She had never been so afraid in her whole life, not even during her adventures with Harry and Ron. Then at least she had never been alone, and she had had her wand. Without it, she was absolutely defenceless, and even the elaborate fake Galleon wasn't any help now. And she was not only worried about herself, but also about Christine. She fervently hoped that they hadn't killed her.

It was all so strange. Whoever had kidnapped her in the first place had obviously been a wizard using Polyjuice Potion. But her keeper seemed to be a common muggle criminal. If she had been kidnapped on the order of Voldemort – and that was the only thing which made sense – why hadn't she been brought to him directly, but was given to muggle-criminals? And why would Voldemort want to kidnap her in the first place? Had he somehow found out about Micaelus's book?

But there were now more urgent things to think about than Voldemort's motivations. She had to get out of here, as soon as possible. As long as she was in the care of muggles she might still be able to flee, but as soon as she was in Voldemort's power she wouldn't have a chance.

Hermione thought of what she knew of people who had been killed or tortured by Voldemort, and she started shaking uncontrollably. She slipped into the sleeping bag to get out of the piercing cold, but the shaking wouldn't stop and a terrified sob escaped her throat.

_Stop it! _Hermione thought. _Think!_ _You're supposed to be so clever, so think now!_

After a few minutes of trying very hard to push away her worries she was able to control the shivering and to think again. She wrecked her brain recalling all the elaborate escapes she had read about in books or seen in films. But she didn't have the time to dig a tunnel with a spoon, and she had the feeling that her keeper wouldn't fall for her pretending to be sick or succumb to her feminine attractions. And even if he did, and would come down into the cellar, she still didn't know how to overpower him. She silently cursed herself for not being proficient in any Martial Arts.

What was she to do? Trying to think logically, she went through all her options. She couldn't think of any plausible scenario in which she could successfully employ trickery or violence to overpower her keeper. So what was left to her? Magic, but she didn't have her wand. But she didn't necessarily need it to do magic, did she? Children did magic without wands all the time until they came to Hogwarts. She herself had done a few things, and Harry had told her about the vanished window at the zoo. The problem was that without a wand she couldn't control her magical abilities. They could be triggered by strong emotions or fear – and Hermione was pretty sure that in her situation that shouldn't be the problem – but she couldn't be certain that whatever happened would happen at the time and in the way she needed it to.

Still, at the moment this seemed like her only chance.

Should she try to hex the keeper? This would probably be too complicated. And what if there was more than one? For all she knew, the house above her could be swarming with people.

Hermione listened intently. Now her eyes had grown accustomed to the blackness around her, she could discern small fissions in the wooden ceiling above her where the darkness was less deep than everywhere else. Ever since she had woken up she hadn't heard any indication that there was more than one guard, but suddenly she heard a muffled voice above her. Straining to hear what he was saying, she couldn't understand a word, but was pretty sure that it was only him speaking, and the pauses he made indicated that he was talking to someone on the phone. So perhaps he had an accomplice who wasn't there yet? Perhaps they took shifts in guarding her? When he had finished talking, her guard crossed the floor above her a few times, but apart from that everything stayed quiet.

Walking across the floor… Harry and the window in the zoo… What if she could make part of the floor vanish when he stepped onto it, so he would fall down into the cellar? If she was lucky, the unexpected fall might knock him out or at least injure him so that she could hit him over his head. The only weapon she had was a bucket made of some light metal which was obviously meant to serve as her toilet. But it would have to do. She'd also have to prevent the floor from closing again, since otherwise she would still be stuck in the cellar. This wouldn't be easy, and Hermione was far from sure that it'd work, but it was the only plan she could come up with.

To Hermione it seemed like hours until the man crossed the room above her once more. Listening carefully, she was pretty sure that she had found a spot he had passed now several times. Standing close to it, bucket in her hands, she concentrated very hard, focussing all her fear and anger on the darkness above her head. In her mind she went through all the vanishing spells she had ever heard or read about, picturing a sudden hole in the ceiling, blinding light and the man falling down to her feet.

She didn't know how long she was standing like this, her body aching with tension, listening for the man's steps. Finally she thought she heard him getting up again. Yes, there was a step. She just hoped he was coming in her direction. His steps came closer, he was nearly upon her. Hermione rallied all her concentration, all her emotions and knowledge, and when the steps were above her released everything she had built up for this moment.

It felt as if a silent shockwave was erupting around her. Hermione staggered, thrown off for a moment and feeling utterly empty and feeble. The ceiling above her vanished, light streaming down to her through a hole about two metres in diameter. And something heavy fell down with a surprised yelp.

The man crashed down besides her, shouting with pain as his ankle gave way beneath him. He fell down on his side, his head bumping on the floor, but he was only dazed, not unconscious, and Hermione raised the metal bucket. She hesitated for a moment, but then survival instinct made her crush it down on his head. His moaning ceased immediately and he was lying motionless at her feet.

Breathing heavily she stared at him in shock, hardly able to pull her eyes from his still face. Suddenly she remembered the hole above her. Looking up she saw that it was already closing, and panic welled up inside her. Concentrating as hard as possible, she willed it to stop closing. At first it didn't seem to help, but finally Hermione was pretty sure that it would stay open at least for a few minutes.

She quickly knelt down beside the man, terrified of the possibility that he might wake up and grab her at any moment. But she had things to do before she could leave. At first she felt for his pulse, and was very glad to find one. Then she pulled off his shoes and threw them up through the hole. Now even if he should get out of the cellar he wouldn't be able to follow her outside. Then she searched his pockets and found his purse and cell phone, which she both put into her own pockets.

Finally Hermione turned over the bucket, stepped onto it, jumped and hoisted herself up through the hole, which was now hardly large enough for her. It was hard work and Hermione silently vowed not only to learn Martial Arts, but also to build up some stamina. Lying panting on the floor, she watched the hole close slowly. Looking around her she saw that she was in what looked like a small primitive cottage obviously deserted for some time. A glance at her watch told her that it was nearly 2 am. Hermione got up to search for a telephone, but there was none. The cell phone she had taken from the man was deactivated and so wouldn't be any help to her. She didn't want to call the police, at least not as long as she could help it. Looking around, she found the _Daily Mail_ lying on a wobbly table. On an impulse she wrote "Get out immediately, they'll kill you if they find you" on it. She couldn't set him free, but neither did she want him to be killed by the angry Voldemort, and oh, he would be so angry…

It was high time to leave. The man's anorak was lying over a chair, and Hermione reluctantly took it. She didn't like wearing it at all, since it smelled strongly of him, but otherwise she'd freeze to death.

Stepping outside the house, she found herself in a barren mountain landscape, reminding her of the Scottish Highlands. Apart from the cottage and a few decaying outhouses, there was nothing around her. It was freezing and there were patches of snow lying on the ground.

After her success in breaking out Hermione had experienced a feeling of triumph, but that was now dashed considerably. She had no idea were she was, no idea when Voldemort or the man's friends would come looking for her. There was nothing left for her but to get away from the house as fast as possible and trying to find some place where she could use a telephone to call for help. Facing the cutting wind Hermione set out on the small path leading away from the house into the night. Luckily the moon, stars and the patches of snow provided enough light, and as long as she stayed on the road she shouldn't be in danger of stumbling.

The path soon hit upon a street, and now Hermione had to decide whether to turn left or right. She choose left and set out as fast as she could, fear pounding inside her. After ten minutes she threw the muggle's shoes, which she had taken with her, into some bushes by the road.

It was a surreal walk through the cold, windy night, her breath rasping and her head filled with fear and racing thoughts, torn between hope and panic. After about 40 minutes she got to a crossroad. This time there luckily was a signpost, telling her that to her right was a village in 7 miles distance, while to her left the next village was 10 miles away. Hermione hesitated for several moments, debating whether to choose the closer village – which would probably be the one were they would come looking for her if they had followed her that far – or to try and outwit them by choosing the one further away. But she didn't know if she had the strength for 10 miles, and finally decided that her best chances would be to be as fast as possible.

The signpost also gave her a first indication of where she was, since the village names were given not only in English, but also in another language which Hermione thought was Welsh.

She trudged on through the night, feeling colder and colder and ever more wary. After about two hours she suddenly heard the noise of an approaching car cutting through the quiet night. Panic flared up in her, and she dashed off the road uphill into a group of bushes. Hiding beneath them, her heart pounding, her fingers scratched from the twigs and wet from the snow and dew, she watched with held breath as the car approached. For a second she thought it slowed down, but that was probably only her imagination. It disappeared into the night again, and after a few minutes Hermione returned to the road.

When she was still three miles away from the village the sky clouded over and suddenly it began to snow. _Brilliant,_ Hermione thought, shivering as the wind lashed rather wet snowflakes in her face. The anorak was more or less rainproof, but her jeans were soon soaked through and her shoes began to feel rather damp as well. She drudged along shivering, hardly able to discern her way in the darkness and snow, more than once stumbling when she had involuntarily left the road. Her thoughts were alternately filled with fearful scenarios of how she would be caught and what would happen then, and paradisiacal images of her rooms with a roaring fire, cups of hot chocolate and her warm bed with a purring Crookshanks on it.

It was half past 5 when Hermione finally arrived at the small village called Devil's Bridge, nearly stumbling with exhaustion and cold. The sign at the entrance to the village confirmed that she was in Wales, and relief and hope washed over her when she detected two telephone boxes outside a hotel.

The first one was out of order and Hermione's heart skipped a beat. She held her breath when she opened the door to the second one and gave a relieved sigh when it seemed to be working. Luckily she had found a few pounds in the muggle's purse which she now put into the slot with cold and trembling fingers.

Hermione had had several hours time to think about whom to call. She had decided to try Matthew Cuthbert, one of her friends from St Andrews, first. He had a mobile and she knew his number, and he'd be able to pick her up. She only hoped that he had his phone activated at this time of night. Otherwise she'd try her parents, but that would be much more complicated and she didn't really want to involve them.

Casting a cautious look around, Hermione picked up the receiver and dialled. She felt much too exposed in the light a street light shed on the telephone box, but that couldn't be helped.

The phone rang. _Pick it up_, _please pick it up!_ Hermione thought, her heart racing. The phone seemed to ring endlessly, but at least she didn't get the mailbox. It rang and rang, but just when Hermione was sure that Matthew couldn't be there, she suddenly had a connection.

"Hello? This better be good, it's fucking early!"

Hermione's heart was pounding and she was nearly sobbing with relief. "Mat, it's me, Hermione. Listen, I'm in great trouble. I've been kidnapped by Voldemort and I escaped, but you need to pick me up."

There was silence for a few moments, but then Matthew answered, the sleepiness gone from his voice. "I understand. Where are you?"

"I'm in the Welsh mountains, in a village called Devil's Bridge. There's a hotel here called _The King's arms_, with a small camping site. Apparate to the entrance of the campingsite and step into the light, so I can see you. And show me the book I gave you for your last birthday."

"All right, I'll be there right away. Don't worry, Hermione."

"Thanks Mat, you don't know what that means to me. See you."

She hung up, a large grin on her face. One of the reasons why she had decided to phone Matthew was that she knew that he wouldn't ask questions, but just do what she told him to.

Hermione left the telephone box, hurried over into the shadows beside the road and hid behind some large rhododendron bushes. After a few minutes a tall blond young man suddenly appeared out of nowhere and then stepped into the light, holding up an illustrated history of sailing ships.

Still weary, Hermione left the shelter of the bushes and slowly walked towards him. "Mat, I'm so glad you're here. I'm sorry, but I have to ask you another question. Whom did you date in your first year at St Andrews?"

He gave her a rueful smile. "Samantha Anderson, and it was a great mistake. Great Merlin, Hermione, what has happened? You look dreadful."

She laughed, almost giddy with relief. "And I feel dreadful. But let's get out of here first. Take me to Hogwarts."

He nodded, Hermione took his hand and they vanished.

When the world stopped turning she realized that she was standing in front of the entrance gate to the Hogwarts grounds. Until now Hermione had still feared that something terrible might happen, and only now the tension which had held her upright for the last hours, lessened and she felt herself near to collapse.

Matthew took her elbow, steadying her. When he realized how wet and cold she was, he performed a quick drying spell. Now at least her clothes were dry again, but Hermione still couldn't stop shaking. Matthew looked at her rather worried and finally started to lead her towards the grounds. "I sent my Patronus to Dumbledore and asked him to meet us on our way. We should see them soon."

Hermione was glad for Matthew's support as she was staggering up the way to the castle. She gave him a short version of the last hours, and Mat was horrified about what might have happened to her. After about 10 minutes they saw two figures hurrying towards them. They stepped into the shadows, Matthew holding his wand at the ready, but soon recognized them as Dumbledore and McGonagall, dressed in their nightclothes with warm cloaks thrown over them.

Stepping out onto the path again, they slowly walked towards them. Hermione felt warmed by the relieved smile on Dumbledore's and McGonagall's faces, and was glad that they hardly asked her any questions, but made for the castle as fast as possible.

"Have you heard anything from my friend Christine?" She asked anxiously, afraid to hear terrifying news.

Dumbledore nodded beside her. "Yes, she is well and unharmed. It was her who contacted us via your parents, and told us that something had happened. She was waiting for you in her flat when suddenly a strange man turned up at her door, pulled a wand and she got unconscious. When she woke up again in the evening, she found herself lying under her own bed, obviously stashed out of the way. She also found your bags and some cookies she had never seen before in her living room. She realized that something must have happened to you and phoned your parents, who then informed us."

Hermione felt a twinge of guilt. "My parents! Do they know I'm well?"

Dumbledore smiled at her reassuringly. "Yes, I informed them as soon as I got Mr. Cuthbert's Patronus. I also sent Moody to fetch them and take them to a secure place." He nodded towards Matthew. "Good work. I'm glad you were there to help Hermione."

Hermione suddenly discerned three more figures hurrying towards them. As they drew closer, she saw that it were Neville, Lupin and Luna. When they reached her, they nearly choked her with embraces and anxious enquiries, and Hermione was reminded of the day before Christmas when they had thought her a victim of the bombing. But Dumbledore resolutely silenced them, and told them that Hermione would have to be looked after first before telling them her story.

In spite of Hermione's protests she was taken to the hospital wing and fussed over by Madam Pomfrey, who immediately put a warming spell on her and gave her a strong potion to drink which burned in her throat, but afterwards warmed her body pleasantly from inside. When she was finally lying in a comfortable bed, Hermione started to feel warm again, but also very weak. But when her friends gathered around her bed, looking at her worriedly, she tried to give them an encouraging smile. "I'm all right, just a bit shaken and frozen."

Dumbledore looked at her searchingly, than nodded. "Good. If you feel up to it, please tell us what happened."

Trying to recount everything as accurately and dispassionately as possible, Hermione told what had happened since she had entered Christine's flat. She also gave Dumbledore the muggle's mobile and purse. Her listeners were alternately astonished, angry, fearful and proud of her. When she had finished, feeling very exhausted but glad that she'd told them, morning had already broken and Hermione could hear the castle awaking. Dumbledore looked very grave. "These are strange and serious happenings. We'll have to think and talk about it. But now you have to sleep, dear," and he gave Hermione a fond smile.

"Wait", she said, voicing a question she had had for some time. "Where's Severus? Did he know anything about this?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "I'm afraid I don't know where he is. As soon as he heard that you had been kidnapped he tried to get into contact with Voldemort or at least some of the Death Eaters. He hasn't returned yet."

"Oh," Hermione said, feeling anxious for him and catching a pondering look from McGonagall. "I just hope he gets back all right."

"Yes", Dumbledore said, his face worried. "Let's hope he's not with Voldemort when he learns that you've escaped…"

Hermione shuddered and coldness spread once again through her body. Suddenly she realized that nothing would ever be the same again. For whatever reason, it seemed that she had become one of Voldemort's prime targets. And that endangered her parents as well. Feeling very cold and weary, she just wanted to sleep and forget about everything in the warm security of her hospital bed. Her friends noticed that it was time to leave her alone, and when they had left Madam Pomfrey gave her a calming sleeping potion which sent her into a long and dreamless sleep.

When Hermione woke up again it was already dark outside. One glance at her watch told her that it was nearly 9 pm, but at least still on the same day. As soon as she began to stir in her bed there were noises from further down the room and she saw Ron and Harry hurrying up to her.

Both gave her a careful hug, as if worried to hurt her, and sat down at her bed with relief written on their faces.

"We're so glad you're all right." Ron voiced full heartedly.

Harry nodded. "It seems that you're making a habit out of frightening us." He gave her a crooked smile but Hermione saw the lines of worry on his and Ron's face.

"I'm sorry, I'll try to stay away from harm in the future." She knew it was a lame answer, but that was all she could give them.

"Dumbledore told us what happened," Harry said. "You were very lucky, you know. If I think of what could have happened to you…" His hands clenched and Ron drew in an angry breath.

"I know." In many ways the last night felt like a nightmare now, but Hermione remembered her fear all too realistically. "To be honest, I've never been so frightened in my whole life. Not that anything terrible happened, it was just the fear of what might happen, the feeling of being at Voldemort's mercy and of being hunted." She shivered. "And the loneliness. You know, it was different when we were doing dangerous stuff together."

Harry nodded earnestly. "I know what you mean. The loneliness is the worst part", and he took up her hand and held it tightly.

A thought suddenly crossed Hermione's mind. "Do you know if Snape is back yet?"

"Yeah," Ron answered, even this short word betraying his dislike. "Actually we found him in here when we came to visit you. He left immediately, of course. I guess he needed something from Poppy, although he seemed well enough. Apparently he couldn't find Voldemort himself, but only Lucius Malfoy, who flatly denied knowing anything about you. Finally Lucius was called to Voldemort, but not Snape, but he went anyway." There was a hint of admiration in Ron's voice. "He was lucky, when the two of them arrived Voldemort was so angry about your escape that he hardly noticed Snape. Well, he returned as soon as possible. Quite understandable. I wouldn't want to be a Death Eater around Voldemort in the near future." There was a certain amount of grim glee in his voice.

Hermione felt relieved. "I'm glad he's well."

Harry nodded. "I have to admit he didn't hesitate to risk his life to get information on what had happened to you."

Hermione was pondering this when suddenly her glance fell on an object on the small table beside her bed. When she reached for it and picked it up, she saw that it was a bar of chocolate.

"Did you bring that?" She asked Ron and Harry. But the two shook their heads. "It was here when we came", Ron told her. "I guess it's from Remus, he uses chocolate, doesn't he?"

Hermione nodded, but couldn't help wondering if it wasn't from someone else, and a soft smile settled on her face.


	18. The Muggle Born Regulation Act

**The Muggle-Born Regulation Act**

In spite of Madame Pomfrey's protests Hermione insisted on leaving the hospital wing the next morning. She had to admit that she still felt a bit shaky, but persisted that she could recover in her own rooms.

Shortly before lunch she was visited by her parents and Christine. It was hard to reassure her parents that she was all right, since she couldn't claim that something like this would never happen again. Voldemort's new interest in her meant that her parents had become potential targets as well, and would now be constantly guarded by aurors and members of the Order. Hermione felt responsible for putting them in danger and reproached herself, but they ensured her that it wasn't her fault and that they'd be all right. She also blamed herself for endangering Christine who, on the other hand, was worried, but still more overwhelmed by Hogwarts.

"I'm so sorry," Hermione said, "I never wanted to drag you into this."

Christine just shrugged her shoulders. "What happened happened, I'm just glad you're all right. And you know what?" she gave Hermione a big smile. "Your headmaster thought that it'd be better for me to disappear for some time, so he gave me a round-the-world ticket and enough money to travel the world. You know I always wanted to take a year off, and now I can actually do it!"

"I'm glad you like it," Hermione said, feeling relieved. "I suggested it to him. So there's at least one positive effect from the whole mess."

Christine nodded. "And I had the chance to come here." She looked around Hermione's room enthusiastically. "I just wished I were one of you, I really do." She said wistfully. Hermione's parents looked rather doubtful and Hermione thought that with hindsight they probably would have preferred never to have heard of wizards and Hogwarts. Christine obviously hadn't noticed. "Perhaps you have a wizard friend who wouldn't be adverse to date a muggle?" she asked Hermione hopefully.

"I'll think about it," Hermione promised with a smile.

**...**

Dumbledore had called for a meeting in the late afternoon. Hermione had eaten lunch with her parents and Christine in her rooms, and so when she entered Dumbledore's office all the teachers who hadn't seen her yet crowded around her to express their worries and their joy at her safety. It was touching how everybody treated her like a raw egg, but also a bit annoying after a while.

"By now you have all heard what happened to Hermione," Dumbledore finally started when all had arrived. "She was lucky enough to escape, but the kidnapping is still rather serious and unusual. The first question of course is how the kidnappers knew where she was going. They obviously expected her to show up at her friend's flat and they had prepared Polyjuice Potion to impersonate her. That means they must have known beforehand where her friend lived. Now, only Hermione, myself, Lupin, Neville and Elektra knew that she was going to London in the first place. I told Elektra that you'd be staying with a muggle-friend, but didn't say who it was. Did you tell anyone when you were at the ministry?"

Hermione shook her head. "No. When we arrived at the Ministry's library Anistaphala asked me where I was staying, but I just said with a muggle-friend. There were a number of others present, but I'd be very hard for them to find out whom I meant in the short time they had."

Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully. "Of course you could have been followed later," Dumbledore took up again, "but that still doesn't explain how Voldemort or whoever kidnapped you knew where you would be going beforehand. Severus," he turned to look at Snape who was sitting in a corner apart from everyone, "do you have an explanation?"

This was the first chance Hermione had to look at him for longer than a few seconds. She hadn't seen him since she'd found the chocolate the day before, and she was wondering if he was still mad at her as he had been before she had gone to London. Hermione had hoped that the chocolate had been a kind of peace offering, but when she had given him a tentative smile on entering Dumbledore's office he had looked away quickly and he had avoided meeting her eyes ever since. On the other hand since the meeting had started Hermione had several times had the distinct feeling that he was looking at her, but when she turned in his direction she always found him staring somewhere else.

"I don't," Snape said levelly. "It is certain the Dark Lord knew the identity and address of Hermione's muggle friend, but I have no idea how."

Dumbledore sighed. "I'm afraid we won't find an explanation for that at the moment. Just think about it and tell me if you have any ideas. Now, the unusual thing about the kidnapping is of course that while the actual deception and drugging was obviously done by a wizard, Hermione was not immediately delivered to Voldemort, but put into the keeping of some muggle criminals who probably had no idea whom they were serving. Severus, I think you can explain that.

Snape leaned forward in his chair. "In my opinion the reason for the Dark Lord's employment of muggles lies in the reason why Hermione was kidnapped in the first place." He made a short pause. "I'm afraid he has learned of Micaelus's book."

Several of the listeners drew in their breath, but Hermione was not really surprised. This was the only explanation which made any sense.

"Luckily he doesn't know any details," Snape went on. "I couldn't ascertain how he found out about it, or how he knows that Hermione is involved in it, but all he knows or suspects is that Micaelus learned about some native ceremony in which dead people were reanimated. He called me again this night and asked me about the book, and I was able to ensure him that this and nothing more dangerous is its content." His voice and face were absolutely dispassionate, but Hermione knew that he had probably been subjected to Voldemort's Legilimency and perhaps even been tortured. A sudden wave of helpless fury and affection washed over her, leaving her emotions in a state of confusion she had hoped she had overcome.

Snape meanwhile went on. "It seems he also found out which book Hermione read in the Ministry's library, and that would have intensified his interest. The notes Hermione made were gone, weren't they?"

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes. Her other things were still in her friend's flat, but the notes had disappeared."

Snape nodded and suddenly looked at Hermione, his face dispassionate. "It'd be helpful if you could remember what you wrote down, so that we know which information the Dark Lord got from your notes."

"I've already started with it," Hermione said. "It'll be available to you later this evening." Snape raised one eyebrow in appreciation, but when Hermione met his gaze he looked away again.

"We also should think up a cover-story for the real content of Micaelus's book," he went on, "so that if anyone of us gets in a situation where he or she is forced to give information to the Dark Lord…" there was a sudden chill in the room and Hermione shuddered involuntarily, "we all tell him the same story. As I said, as yet the Dark Lord only has a very sketchy idea what the book is about, and so when the chance presented itself he decided to get Hermione in his power to learn more about it. Even if she didn't know anything or if the book proved to be uninteresting, Hermione would still be a valuable hostage due to her relation to Potter and the Order. I think the reason why he hadn't brought her to him immediately but gave her into the care of muggle criminals is because he didn't want his followers to know about the book. He is very secretive when it comes to magic which touches his own state and which he thinks could be used against him. So he employed only one or a few very trusted followers to arrange the kidnapping, and probably intended to later show up where Hermione was held captive. He only asked me about the book when he knew that she had escaped, obviously not willing to tell me that he knew about it before."

Dumbledore nodded gravely. "This makes sense. But it of course also leaves the question how Voldemort came to know about Micaelus's book in the first place."

Snape shook his head. "I asked him, but he wouldn't tell me. As I said, his knowledge was rather sketchy, so whoever told him about it would have been someone who had only a cursory knowledge of it."

Hermione was racking her brain like she had all day long, but couldn't think of anyone who might have betrayed her. "I guess we here are the only people who really know about the book?" she asked, looking at the teachers around her. They nodded their consent and Hermione turned to Dumbledore. "And you never told Anistaphala or anyone else in the Ministry?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "I never told her about the book. The only thing she knew was that you wanted access to the Ministry's library. I'm afraid here as before we're at a loss for answers. But again I ask you to think about it, and inform me if you can think of anything."

Hermione was deeply worried by the thought that someone obviously knew so much about them. She didn't want to belief that any of her friends was a traitor, but the false Moody in their fourth year had shown her that anything was possible. _I'll just have to be more careful_, she thought, feeling sad and angry that Voldemort made her mistrust her friends and colleagues.

A bit later Dumbledore ended their meeting and they all got up to leave for dinner, Snape storming out first without a further glance at Hermione. He also ignored her at dinner, just gobbling down his food without looking at or talking to anybody, and leaving the table before the rest of them had really started eating.

Hermione went to the library afterwards, trying very hard not to feel sad about the way Snape had treated her, and burying herself in her work. Suddenly she felt something brush against her ankles and when she looked down she saw Crookshanks swishing around her legs.

"What are you doing here?" she whispered, "you know cats are not allowed in the library?"

He didn't seem to be impressed and started rubbing his face against her shin, purring loudly.

Sighing internally Hermione bent down, took Crookshanks up and made for the door. Madam Pince shot her a scandalized look, but luckily refrained from saying anything. As soon as Hermione had closed the library door behind her and was standing in the corridor, Crookshanks started wriggling out of her grasp until she let him down. When she straightened up again and looked after him, she suddenly saw Snape standing very still in a dark area of the corridor about twenty feet away from her. He was looking at her, his pale face and white hands contrasting with the deep black of his clothes and hair, and the dimness in the hallway.

_Has he sent Crookshanks to get me?_ was the first thought which popped up in Hermione's mind as she saw her cat swishing around his legs. But that seemed rather unlikely. Or had Crookshanks taken the initiative? She shot the half-kneazle a suspicious look. Anyway, the question was what to do now, she couldn't just keep standing there staring at him.

"Do you have a minute?" Snape suddenly said in a low voice.

"Sure." Hermione went towards him, feeling very tense. When she was standing in front of him his rigid posture and face made her suspect that he was probably feeling as uncomfortable as she did. She looked him square in the eyes, trying to convey something like distanced friendliness. His face was very white and drawn, and for a moment she thought she saw something like pain in his dark eyes.

"I am…sorry for my behaviour towards you," Snape finally said haltingly. "You didn't deserve it. And I didn't want to hurt you." He held her gaze for a few seconds, then looked away abruptly. "I am glad you were not harmed."

Hermione was studying his half-turned face. "Did you leave the chocolate?" she asked.

Slightly surprised, Snape met her eyes again. "Yes, I did. I thought you'd like it."

She gave him a small smile. "I did. Thank you. And thanks that you went to Voldemort when you heard I was kidnapped."

He looked a bit uncomfortable now. "Luckily you didn't need my help. We were worrying about you, and your cat went nearly berserk." He hesitated. "I wanted to ask you if you'd come and work with me again. As you're certainly aware of there is still a lot to do."

_So he's not only apologizing but also asking me to get back to normal again_, Hermione thought, suddenly feeling as if a great weight had been lifted from her. She looked up into Snape's tense face and finally said. "I'll come and work with you again."

For a moment his eyes lit up but immediately the usual dispassionate mask slipped into place again. Sighing internally, Hermione said quietly, "After all we work well together, don't we?"

"Yes, we do." There was a multitude of conflicting emotions in his eyes. "I don't want to keep you from your work," he said after a few moments of silence. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

"You will."

Feeling emotionally drawn but happier than she had since their quarrel, Hermione watched him hurrying down the corridor, his black robes billowing, Crookshanks trotting after him.

**...**

Since it was highly unlikely that Hermione would ever see her wand again, the next day she set out for Ollivander's to buy a new one. She felt her loss keenly, her wand having been like a part of herself for so many years now that its absence left her with a disconcerting feeling of helplessness. Lupin was to accompany her to London, and while Hermione didn't like the thought that he was coming as a kind of bodyguard she knew that it was necessary and was grateful for his company.

When they entered the cluttered little shop in Diagon Alley they found it empty apart from Mr. Ollivander himself who was perched high up on a rather rickety ladder, stashing even more narrow boxes onto the already crammed shelves. "How can I help you?" he asked when he had climbed down, looking at them intently with his eerily wide, pale eyes.

"I need a new wand," Hermione said. "My old one was unfortunately…destroyed."

"What a pity," Ollivander said, shaking his head in sorrow. "You are Miss Granger, are you not?"

Hermione nodded surprised.

"Yes yes, I remember you," Ollivander went on, smiling at her benignly. "You did things with your wand I had seen no child who hadn't entered Hogwarts yet perform. Vine wood with a dragon heartstring core it was, wasn't it? Ten inches?"

"Yes," Hermione replied, as always surprised by his seemingly limitless memory.

"Well, let's see what I can offer you instead," Ollivander said, scrutinizing her intently for a few seconds and then turning to the thousands of narrow boxes which lined the walls of his shop from floor to ceiling. After a few moments he reached for one, opened it and handed Hermione a long wand. "Try this one. Willow and dragon heartstring, thirteen inches, rather bendy. Don't cast a spell, just give it a wave."

Hermione took the wand and waved it, but nothing much happened and Ollivander snatched it out of her hand again.

"Well, another one, obviously," he said, walking along the shelves and taking down several other boxes. "Try this one instead." It took them three other tries until Hermione finally found a wand which immediately felt right and produced a shower of sparks when she waved it.

"Very good choice," Ollivander said pleased. "That's hazel, 10 ¼ inches, swishy, with a single tail hair of a particularly fine female unicorn. I wish you all the best with it."

Hermione weighed it in her hand. It was a bit longer and more flexible than her old one, but it lay well in her hand and she had a good feeling about it.

They had left Ollivander's and were making for the exit of Diagon Alley when Hermione suddenly spotted Lucius and Draco Malfoy coming towards them. When they saw her and Lupin, both put on an eerily similar, unpleasant and arrogant smile. There was no way they could avoid passing them, and so Hermione raised her chin and walked towards them very upright.

"Remus, Miss Granger," Lucius drawled with fake delight. "How pleasant to meet you." He glanced over at Ollivander's. "I take it you had to buy a new wand?" He looked at Hermione suggestively.

"Indeed," she said with forced politeness. "I…lost my old one."

A nasty smile tucked at Lucius's mouth. "You probably were lucky not to lose more…?"

Anger welled up inside her as Hermione looked into his smiling face. She wished she could hit him and since she couldn't do that she looked his eyes in a silent battle, trying to convey all her cold fury in her gaze. After a few minutes it was Lucius who looked away first. When Hermione glanced at Draco, she saw that he was looking from her to his father with obvious bewilderment. _It seems he doesn't know I was kidnapped_, she thought, scrutinizing him. _How interesting_.

Lupin's composed voice pulled her from her reveries. "Her friends will take good care of Miss Granger in the future, Lucius," he said, looking at the Death Eater with steely eyes. "Very good care." He paused and again Hermione observed that Draco looked at his father with bewilderment. "Now I'm afraid we'll have to go. Lucius, Draco," he inclined his head a little and went on.

Hermione ignored Lucius and turned to Draco, giving him a small smile. "Take care, Draco," she said softly, and was rewarded with a look of such surprise that she could hardly stifle a loud laugh. _That'll give him something to ponder on_, she thought mischievously as she hurried after Lupin.

After they had left Diagon Alley Hermione treated Lupin to tea and cake in a muggle café. She had noticed that he looked drawn and distracted and when they had eaten their pieces of cake she asked him "Are you worried about Lucius?"

He looked at her in surprise. "Not really. Why do you ask?"

"You look worried."

His face closed and he looked down at his hands. "It's nothing particular. Aren't we all worried, especially after what happened to you?"

Hermione didn't say anything for a few moments but sipped at her tea, eyeing Lupin intently. Finally he looked up again and met her eyes with a crooked smile. "You know, sometimes you remind me of Lily."

"Do I?" she asked surprised.

"Yes. She used to worry about me as well, and she had a similar way of looking at me when she thought that something was going on that I didn't tell her."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "So there is something going on? Will you tell me what's bothering you?"

Lupin gave a defeated sigh. "If you must know, I'm a bit worried about Tonks. Dumbledore sent her on a secret mission together with Moody yesterday."

"I see," Hermione replied, taking another sip of tea, considering how she should proceed. "You know, it's really sad," she said after a few moments.

Lupin looked at her in surprise. "What's sad?"

Hermione made a sweeping gesture with her hand. "You and Tonks. I mean just think how lucky you are – you have found someone you love, who as far as I know returns your affections, but still you aren't together."

A hint of annoyance crossed Lupin's face. "You know that it's impossible."

"Is it?" Hermione asked softly, knowing that she was treading on dangerous ground. "Or are you just afraid?"

He drew in his breath angrily. "Sorry, but that is none of your concern."

"It is when two of my friends are suffering."

There was silence for a few moments, Lupin obviously feeling very uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry," Hermione finally said, "I don't want to meddle. But I really think you should give it a try. You can control your condition and Tonks doesn't care about it. There are enough bad things going on at the moment, and when there is any chance that you two could be happy in times like these I think you should at least give it a try."

The anger had gone from Lupin's face and he gave her a crooked smile. "I know you're only worried about me. Believe me, there's nothing I wished more…" Suddenly there was such longing and sadness in his eyes that Hermione could hardly bear to look at him, "but you have to trust me to make my own decisions."

Hermione nodded slowly. "I will. But please think about it." And she silently decided to talk to Tonks as soon as possible.

"I will," Lupin replied with a little sad smile.

**...**

It was a late evening a week later and Hermione was sitting in the teachers' common room with Lupin, Flitwick and Madame Hooch when suddenly a house-elf appeared and told them that Dumbledore wanted to see them immediately. Exchanging worried glances, they hurried to his office where they found him looking very grave, but declining to say anything until everyone had arrived. Hermione noticed that Snape wasn't present, but Dumbledore didn't seem surprised by this, and as soon as the rest of the teachers and Neville and Luna had arrived he looked at them very seriously and said "I just got the news that Minister Fudge has been murdered."

There were shocked intakes of breath and Hermione felt as if the floor had fallen away beneath her feet. One look in the faces of her colleagues and friends told her that they were feeling very much the same. "How," McGonagall asked with forced composure.

Dumbledore looked very worried, and that, even more than the news itself, frightened Hermione. "He was shot by a muggle-born," he said and everyone got very quiet.

"You mean with a muggle-gun?" Hermione asked tensely.

"Yes," Dumbledore replied.

_Good God_, Hermione thought. _This is bad, this is really bad_.

"Did the Dark Mark go up, or is there any other connection to Voldemort?" Lupin asked, his voice betraying how worried he was.

"No," Dumbledore replied, "and that of course makes it even worse. If the murder had been marked with the Dark Mark, Voldemort would have been seen as the ultimate culprit. But so it stays uncertain and furthers the mistrust against muggle-borns and half-bloods." He paused for a few seconds, looking intently at their worried faces. "I don't have to tell you what effects this will have. As you know our influence outside of Hogwarts is small, but what we can do we certainly will do, especially within these walls. I'm afraid it is very likely that Walter Watson will become the next Minister, and that of course means that we'll have another powerful opponent who will be able to and certainly try to interfere at Hogwarts."

Hermione felt rather queasy, remembering the year with Umbridge and the feeling of helpless anger that had seethed in her the whole time.

"This means that we have to strengthen our efforts to defeat Voldemort," Dumbledore went on, his eyes very hard now. "Only when he's finally gone will this end. I know you're all giving your best, but we have to hurry up, there's not much time left for us."

They all nodded and started discussing the news and its repercussions. Nobody could think of sleep that night, and most of the teachers, including Hermione, spent many hours in the library, fighting Voldemort the only way they could at the moment.

**...**

When Hermione woke the next morning after only a few hours of fitful sleep she hardly wanted to leave her bed dreading what would happen at breakfast.

And although she had known what would come that didn't make it any easier when the first owls arrived delivering the _Daily Prophet_ and the letters of worried parents. As Hermione had expected, the _Prophet_ made a lot of the assassin being muggle-born and using a muggle-gun, and there were various articles calling for a stronger control of muggle-borns and even half-bloods. Looking around the hall, Hermione saw that most students had stopped eating and looked shocked, reading the paper feverishly or discussing heatedly. Soon verbal fights erupted but were immediately stopped by the teachers.

This didn't change all day long, and Hermione thought she'd never experienced an atmosphere of such tenseness and mistrust in the castle. After trying to prevent students from insulting or hurting each other all morning, she just wanted to get away from the depressing mood and decided to get out into the grounds for half an hour before dinner. Although it was a cool, wet day it was a relief to leave the castle behind and to be out in the fresh air. Walking along the lake she didn't meet anyone until she suddenly saw a black figure standing under a tree, looking out upon the lake.

Hermione had wanted to ask Snape about what had happened, but hadn't seen him at breakfast. When she now spotted him she hesitated for a second, not wanting to break his solitude, but then decided to do it anyway. When she was still twenty feet away from him he suddenly said "Hello Hermione" without turning to her, and she was once again impressed by his perception.

"Hello Severus," she said, stopping beside him and like him looking out onto the lake, its surface slate-gray in this weather. "It was Voldemort, wasn't it?" she asked after a few moments of silence.

"Yes," Snape said. "He celebrated with us last night."

Hermione shot him a glance and saw his mouth curl in a disdainful smile. "Was the assassin under the Imperius?" she asked.

Now Snape looked very grave. "No, he is a real follower. He wanted to do it."

Hermione drew in her breath. "That's terrible."

"Yes." He was still looking out onto the lake. "It won't take long now," he said ponderingly. "One way or the other."

Hermione felt very cold. It had started to drizzle, and the fine rain fell down on her face, shrouding the world around her in a wet veil.

"Let's go to lunch," Snape said abruptly and turned around, Hermione hurrying behind him through the rain.

**...**

As Dumbledore had predicted, Walter Watson became the new Minister for Magic. And one of the first measures he took was to pass the Muggle-Born Regulation Act one week after Fudge had been assassinated. It meant that all muggle-borns had to register with the ministry and were to be subjected to questioning regarding their political views and their relationships with Voldemort or any political muggle organizations. It also allowed the use of Legilimency or Veritaserum if there were suspicions regarding their allegiance.

When Hermione first read about it, she was shocked but not really surprised. "That's terrible," said Neville, who was sitting beside her at breakfast, worriedly. "Now Voldemort's followers only have to find a pretence to interrogate members of the Order, and then they can legally use those measures to get our secrets." Hermione nodded, feeling terribly helpless. "I guess we should all practice Occlumency with Snape," she remarked. Neville looked less than thrilled. "You're probably right. I just hope Dumbledore has any idea what to do about this."

It seemed that he had. Later that day they were called to the headmaster who performed a spell on them which would make it harder to pry secrets from them even with the help of Legilimency and Veritaserum. Dumbledore had already received a message that the following week ministry employers would come to interrogate all muggle-born students and staff above the age of 16. Hermione was nervous, but she was glad to know that none of the students were involved in their fight. She was the only staff-member who was muggle-born, and she was pretty certain that she could shield her mind well enough not to betray any of their secrets. Still, if these interrogations went on for months it would be hard to keep them from getting information on the work of the Order. It was only a question of time until vital secrets would be betrayed.

The teachers now not only redoubled their efforts concerning Micaelus's ritual, but also had extra Defence against the Dark Arts training sessions. Lupin and Snape worked them so hard and used such ruthless spells and tactics that Hermione felt every bone in her body the days after the trainings.

One morning after a long defence-session Hermione dragged her aching body to Snape's laboratory. When she entered he cast one look in her direction and then, with what she thought was an inappropriately smug expression, told her to sit down and look through a book he had placed on a table next to him. Hermione gingerly lowered herself onto the chair, glad that she didn't have to stand and help him with the potion he was brewing. Once again she was surprised that Snape never showed any signs of fatigue or pain after their sessions. He was certainly better than all of them in defending himself, but still she knew for certain that he had been hit by McGonagall and Lupin the evening before. But Snape would never betray any signs of weakness, even to his colleagues, and perhaps after the years with Voldemort he thought these pains rather insubstantial. Telling herself to stop pondering on the man next to her, Hermione started to pore over the book while Snape was stirring his potion carefully. Although she tried to concentrate on what she was reading her mind kept wandering, coming back again and again at a thought she had had while falling asleep the night before. Suddenly Hermione noticed that she had been staring into the air for some minutes, and that Snape was looking at her, his eyebrow raised questioningly. She blushed, embarrassed that he had caught her.

"Something intriguing must be on your mind if it keeps you from reading," he said, a dry smile tucking at his mouth.

"You're right," she replied. "I had a strange thought yesterday while falling asleep. You know, I've always thought that Voldemort hates muggles and muggle-borns, and that that's the reason why he does all this, to get them out of wizarding society. But what if he really hates pure-bloods?"

Snape raised an eyebrow again. "Please elaborate."

"What would happen if he were successful, if everyone connected to muggles would really be chucked out of wizarding society? Well, as far as we know it'd be the end of it. It'd collapse in a few generations due to too much inbreeding. So perhaps Voldemort's real aim is to take revenge on the pure-bloods."

Snape was looking at her thoughtfully. "It is very well possible," he said. "There were times when I thought something like this myself…" He looked back to the potion he was still stirring. "And wouldn't it be a delightful irony that he uses people like Lucius for this, that they practically dig their own grave?" His voice was full of sarcasm, but also sadness, and not for the first time Hermione wondered about his feelings for his Death Eater friends.

They worked in silence for an hour until a glance at her watch reminded Hermione that it was time to leave. This morning the ministry inspectors had arrived to interrogate muggle-borns, and she had an appointment at half past 10.

"Be careful," Snape said when she made to leave. "Not all of them are dunderheads."

"You were a good teacher," Hermione replied, giving him an encouraging smile, "I won't tell them anything."

The inspectors had set up their interrogation room in a deserted classroom. There were three of them and their eager faces told Hermione that after interrogating students who knew nothing they were now obviously keen on having a go at the rather infamous Miss Granger, friend of Harry Potter and protégé of Dumbledore. They asked her questions for over an hour, changing their approach from feigning friendly interest to showing disbelief and open aggression. They not only asked her about her views on current developments and politics, but also about events in her past, especially about her exploits with Harry. Hermione had to concentrate very hard, trying to be as friendly and noncommittal as possible, even if sometimes it was very hard to suppress her anger. A few times she had the impression that one of them tried to get into her mind while the other two were bombarding her with questions. Snape had told her that if that should happen it'd be less suspicious if she wouldn't shut her mind, but pretend that she didn't notice and instead give them access to memories which supported her answers. It wasn't easy to do this while the other two were at the same time doing all they could to break her guard with tricky and emotional questions, but Hermione thought she managed well enough. In the end the interrogators seemed rather unsatisfied to have found nothing they could accuse her of, but had to let her go.

**...**

At the end of April, after weeks of restless work Hermione and Snape had finally completed four of the five potions used in Micaelus's ritual. The last potion was highly complicated and took a very long time to brew, but they now had seven varieties of it which had to be left brewing for two weeks before they could finish it. It was strange to be left with virtually no pressing work, at least with regards to potions, but Hermione was also very glad since it meant that she would be able to attend Stella's wedding.

To avoid drawing the attention of pure-bloods or even Death Eaters enraged at her marrying a muggle, Stella and her fiancé Christian had decided to marry in Germany. Hermione had some misgivings about leaving Britain for two days in these critical times, but when she told Dumbledore about it he said that she mustn't miss it and had earned a bit of free time. And he informed her that Snape would be coming, too. "He had very much the same worries as you," he said, his lip curling into a mischievous smile, "although I suspect it was because he hates weddings probably even more than Christmas. But he was invited and I told him that he could need a pause. If anything should happen we'll call you with the Galleons."

Hermione was very surprised that Snape had been invited to Stella's wedding. Although she had been in Slytherin Hermione had never thought that they were closer than student and Head of House. When Hermione saw Snape later in the day she asked him about it, not able to completely hide her astonishment. At her question his lips curled into a sarcastic smile. "You wonder why one of my students should want me to be present at such an occasion?"

"Oh no," Hermione spluttered, although that was pretty much what she had been thinking. "I was just a bit surprised. I never knew that you were so close."

"I've not only been her Head of House for seven years, but I'm also her mother's second cousin," he explained wryly. "Stella asked me to come, and I accepted her invitation. It should be an...educating experience."

Hermione grinned. Stella and her fiancé had decided to marry in his hometown, a small village in the Bavarian Alps. Due to the surrounding the wedding promised to be certainly very different from everything Snape or even Hermione had ever witnessed.

"But won't Voldemort get suspicious if you attend the wedding?" Hermione asked suddenly.

Snape shrugged his shoulders. "I am family, and I can always claim that my attendance was part of my cover."

Hermione eyed him critically. "Do you approve of her choice?"

Snape hesitated. "I don't know the young man. It'd certainly be much easier for Stella if she had chosen someone from our world, even a muggle-born. But I know her, and I trust her judgement. She wouldn't just marry him on a whim, so she must have strong feelings for him. And if she thinks that is enough we should hope that she is right."

Hermione couldn't hide a surprised smile. "Severus Snape, you're an old romantic," she stated, her eyes twinkling mischievously.

Snape looked taken aback. "I'm certainly nothing of that kind." His face grew grave. "Let's just hope that she doesn't have to pay for her decision.

Hermione's smile faded. "Let's hope so. Stella told me that she and Christian had decided to stay in Germany for the next years, so at least she'll be a bit removed from whatever happens here."

Snape looked relieved. "I'm glad to hear that."

They both returned to their work, but a sudden thought made Hermione shoot him a suspicious glance. "You aren't coming as my bodyguard, are you?"

Snape's guarded face didn't betray anything. "I wouldn't call it like that," he said dispassionately, swiftly adding ingredients to his potions in the seemingly unconscious way that always fascinated Hermione. "But Dumbledore and I certainly think it'd be better not to let you go on your own."

Hermione didn't know if she should feel enraged or grateful. She didn't like the thought that everyone was worried about her and tried to constantly keep an eye on her, but on the other hand she obviously was in danger. Anyway, having Snape with her at the wedding could be fun. Their relationship had been a bit fraught ever since their reconciliation after her kidnapping, and was only now slowly returning to the way it had been before his outburst. Over the last weeks Snape had acted very guardedly around her, and Hermione had been frustrated by the tense atmosphere that sprang up again and again without her knowing why. Perhaps a stay away from Hogwarts would restore the easy relationship they had had before.


	19. Climb every mountain

_Finally a bit more romance ;-). I hope you aren't frustrated yet with the slow pace their relationship is going, but I think it's more realistic that way._

_As always thanks a lot for your comments, and special thanks to my loyal reviewers __indianpipe__, stillneedaname, __pstibbons__ and __notwritten._

**Climb every mountain**

On the early afternoon of the first Friday in May Hermione packed a small suitcase and prepared to leave Hogwarts. She met Snape in the Entrance Hall and together they set out for a spot from which they could disapparate. Snape had put on the muggle clothes Hermione had seen him wear when they had done research at St Andrews, and she herself was wearing jeans and a light shirt.

When they had left the perimeter of the Hogwarts wards, they first apparated to a lonely part of Dartmoor where they met all the other witches and wizards which would attend the wedding. It would have been too strenuous to apparate to Germany straight away, and they also had to be sure that all of them were fittingly dressed.

Apart from Hermione and Snape there were her friends Matthew and Gareth and the Kendricks from St Andrews, two female Slytherin-friends of Stella's and her aunt and uncle. The eyes of Snape's former pupils widened as they saw him and for a second Matthew looked decidedly unhappy. Hermione grinned when she saw it and then looked around for Padma, but Gareth informed her that she was ill and wouldn't be able to come. "Is it serious?" Hermione asked, but he just shrugged his shoulders. "Ask Stella," he said, "she only told me that we don't have to wait for Padma."

The dress of the Slytherins and Stella's relatives had to be adjusted a bit, and Hermione just hoped that they'd at least try to behave inconspicuously. When they had done with the clothes, they apparated first to a lonely spot in the Lüneburg Heath and then to the place Stella had told them, a glade in a forest close to the village where the wedding was to take place.

Stella's fiancé Christian was already waiting for them. He looked a bit shaken by the fact that ten people had just appeared out of thin air, but gave them a welcoming smile.

"Christian!" Hermione said, walking towards him, Matthew and Gareth following her. The young German was rather tall, with short, dark brown hair and warm brown eyes. She gave him a friendly hug and he greeted her and her friends enthusiastically, obviously glad to have some people he knew who could help him cope with this strange bunch of wizards. Hermione introduced him to all the others, and the Kendricks immediately made him feel welcome while the rest, Snape included, scrutinized him with distanced looks. Sighing internally, but knowing that Christian was not one to be daunted by snotty behaviour, Hermione followed him through the sun-filled forest to a road where a small bus was waiting for them. "This way we can claim that you all flew to Munich and went here by train," he explained to them.

On boarding the bus it became apparent that Stella's aunt and uncle, as well as one of her Slytherin friends, had obviously never driven in an automobile in their life. They looked less than thrilled to do so now, and held on fast to whatever was available. _They shouldn't act up like that_, Hermione thought ironically. _This is certainly much less stomach turning than the Knightbus or much other wizard-transportation._ She sat down right in front to be able to chat to Christian, while Snape took a seat close to his two former students.

When Christian started the bus, Stella's aunt, who was sitting next to Hermione, jumped, but luckily no one threw a tantrum or made any disparaging comments. After about ten minutes they left the forest and Hermione couldn't quite suppress a noise of wonder at the scenery which presented itself.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Christian said with a smile, and Hermione nodded vehemently.

They had entered a valley which looked as if it were taken straight out of _The Sound of Music_. Tucked in between high and steep mountains, their rocky summits covered with snow which glittered in the sun, the valley's green meadows spread to the left and right of them. They were sprinkled with occasional trees and brown cows flecked with white, the tingling of their cowbells filling the warm air. Hermione had been to the Alps before, but only in winter when everything was covered with snow. The sun and the fresh spring colours made her smile and she felt lighter than she had for several weeks.

After fifteen minutes they arrived at the village and stopped in front of a small hotel. As Christian explained it was run by his parents and would be their home for the next two nights. Christian and Stella had already married at the registry office, but the wedding in the church and the great party would take place the next day.

As soon as they had stopped, Stella came out of the entrance door, followed by her mother and what seemed to be Christian's parents.

"I'm so glad you are here," she said when they climbed out of the bus, greeting everyone enthusiastically. Now even her Slytherin friends and her aunt and uncle seemed to loosen up a bit. Christian's parents introduced themselves in well practiced English, looking a bit unsure about their guests but trying to make them feel as welcome as possible. Hermione was wondering if they knew about Stella and consequently her guests being wizards.

"Come on in," Stella finally said, "I'll show you your rooms," and she led them into the hotel and handed them the keys. "Your rooms are all on the same floor," she said while climbing up the stair in front of them. "If you like we could meet in front of the hotel in an hour and I'll show you around the village."

Stella brought them to their rooms and told them to ask her if they had any problems with the muggle amenities. Hermione's room was at the end of the corridor, and when Stella opened the door she said "you were to share with Padma, but since she isn't coming you have it all to yourself."

Hermione wrinkled her brow. "I meant to ask you. What has happened to Padma? Matthew told me she was ill and couldn't come."

Stella's smile vanished. "Yes, I wanted to tell you anyway. Let's go to the boys," and she turned towards the room next to Hermione's which Matthew and Gareth were sharing.

Hermione quickly deposited her suitcase and followed Stella. "I wanted to tell you about Padma," Stella explained when they all had sat down on the large double bed. "I'm afraid it's rather serious. I found out only yesterday, and only because I had a question and couldn't reach Padma, so I phoned her mother. It turns out she was involved in an accident in the Ministry some weeks ago and hasn't gained consciousness yet."

Hermione was shocked. "But why did no one tell us?"

Stella shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know if her mother just forgot about it, or if she thought that since she is still in a coma it would be no use to call us. Anyway, I really think we should visit her. She's currently in St Mungo's. What about next weekend? Do you all have time?"

They nodded, still shaken by what Stella had told them.

"What exactly happened?" Gareth asked, furrowing his brow. "I thought she was still doing this internship at the muggle Home Office?"

Stella shook her head. "No, she finished that earlier than expected and started to work in the Ministry's Muggle Relations Office. It seems that there was an accident in the Experimental Charms Bureau, and that she was somehow caught up in it." She paused. "Actually Padma was lucky, the other guy who was in the same room was killed."

Hermione felt a jolt at this information. "Do you know when it was?" she asked.

"Not exactly," Stella replied, "I think at the end of March. Why?"

Hermione had a rather strange feeling. "I think I was there," she said slowly. "At the Ministry. I was doing some research in the library. Something like an explosion shook the whole building, and people were rather afraid because of those muggle-bombs. But I didn't even know that Padma was already working there. And what was she doing in the Experimental Charms Bureau anyway?"

She had nearly forgotten the incident, her mind taken up with what had happened later that day, her kidnapping and her flight. But now she had a queasy feeling, as if there was more to it than appeared at first sight. Could it be a coincidence that Padma had nearly been killed on the day she had been kidnapped?

The others didn't notice that her mind was occupied with more than worry for her friend. Only Matthew knew about the kidnapping and she had asked him not to tell her friends because she didn't want them to worry about her. _Perhaps I'm overreacting_, she thought, looking out of the window without really seeing anything. _It might just be a coincidence._ But she had a strange feeling about it, and over the years Hermione had learned to trust her intuition.

"I think I'll unpack now," she said suddenly, getting off the bed. "I'll see you later."

When she had got back to her room, Hermione started unpacking, but without really concentrating on what she was doing, her mind analyzing what she had just heard and trying to find in it a connection to what had happened to her. After ten minutes of furious thinking she finally left her room and headed to one of the other rooms at the end of the corridor.

At her knocking Snape opened the door and looked at her in surprise. He had been given a single room, and Hermione had to smile at the thought of him being forced to share a double bed with another guest. "I need to talk to you about something," she said, entering immediately without waiting for him to ask her in but.

"Well, just come in," he said sarcastically, seated himself in one of the two chairs and waited for her to begin. She sat down in the other chair and told him what she had just learned.

"I don't know if there's any kind of connection," she explained, "it might just be a coincidence. But somehow I have a strange feeling about it, and I can't just ignore that."

"Your feeling?" He raised an eyebrow with a mocking smile. "In my experience such 'feelings' – if they prove to be right – are subconscious expressions of your mind perceiving things which you consciously haven't realized yet." He was deep in thought for a few minutes, his long fingers unconsciously tapping his chin. "I agree with you, there is something suspicious about it. But we need more information."

Hermione nodded. "As soon as we get back I'll contact Padma's mother. And I'll also ask Arthur to get information about this accident." She hesitated. "You know, perhaps it was Padma who gave my kidnappers the information where I was to be found."

Snape nodded slowly. "Did Miss Patil know about your muggle friend?"

"I don't think she knew her address, but certainly her name. Christine's last name is Grundtvig, her grandfather was Danish, and I don't think there can be many with that name even in London. And Padma knew that when I was staying in London I was staying with her."

They were both pondering silently for a few minutes. "Well," Snape finally said, "we have to get more information on it. You try her family and Arthur, I'll make some inquiries among the Dark Lord's followers. Perhaps someone knows something."

"Be careful," Hermione said, "I don't want you to risk your life for something which might just be a coincidence."

Snape inclined his head in mock acceptance, a wry smile playing around his lips. "I'm touched by your concern, but rest assured, I know how to handle this."

She caught his eyes and their mocking expression slowly faded, replaced by something unreadable. Suddenly he broke the eye contact and glanced at the alarm clock standing next to his bed. "It's nearly time for our meeting with Stella," he said. "Would you excuse me? I have some things to do before we leave."

Hermione nodded and left. She went to her own room, to change into another shirt since the temperature here was higher than in Scotland. A few minutes later they all met in front of the hotel and set out for a tour of the small village and its surroundings. They ambled along at a leisurely pace, their group splitting in smaller sub-groups, and after a while Hermione found herself walking alone next to Sarah. After enquiring about the preparations for the wedding she cast a quick glance around to check that he wasn't close and then asked quietly "Why did you invite Snape?"

Her friend grinned. "I thought you'd be wondering about that. I know it was a shock for Gareth and especially Matthew, but I hope it's all right with you?"

"Certainly," Hermione hastened to reassure her. "I was just surprised. I didn't know you were so close, but he told me he's related to your mother."

"He is. And since I have few other relations, and even fewer who agreed to come, I was quite happy that he accepted." There was a hint of sadness in her voice, but when Hermione shot her a worried glance she smiled. "Don't worry, I knew how people would react. And I'm glad about those who came nevertheless. But Snape isn't just family. You know that my father died when I was in fourth year?"

Hermione nodded.

"Snape took care of me then." Stella went on. "Not that he fussed over me or went all emotional," – Hermione snorted and Stella had to stifle a giggle – "but he made me talk to him, and he kept me occupied." She was silent for a few moments. "I know he can be a real git, especially to the Gryffindors. I'm sure he made your life hell more than once when you were his student, but he has always been a good Head of House, trying to curb the worst excesses of Slytherin behaviour."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Even with Malfoy?"

Stella grimaced. "Draco was a special case." She had a strange look in her eyes and Hermione was wondering what life in Slytherin had been like. "Anyway," Stella said briskly, "I think that in spite of his prickly behaviour Snape is a good man. He must be rather lonely sometimes, and I thought he might like being invited – even if he would never admit it."

Hermione grinned. "You're right, he never would. But I'm glad you've invited him."

Stella shot her a glance. "How are you getting along with him?"

Hermione was silent for a few moments, wondering how much she should tell her. But this wasn't the right time or place for profound confessions. However, if eventually she wanted to tell someone of her friends, certainly Stella would be the best choice since she was basically the only one who didn't fear or loath Snape.

"Surprisingly well," Hermione finally replied. "I was a bit nervous at first, but he respects me and we work well together." She hesitated. "One year ago I would never have believed that I'd ever say this, but I think I like him – at least as long as he is not snarling at me."

Stella looked surprised as well as pleased. "I'm glad to hear it."

Although Hermione would have liked to keep on asking Stella about Snape, she thought it wiser to change the subject. "What about your parents-in-law? Do they know what we are?"

Stella nodded. "I told them a few weeks ago. As you might expect at first they thought I was pulling their leg, but after a few demonstrations they were convinced. I didn't want to keep it secret from them, and with my magical friends and relatives coming to the wedding it would have been really difficult." She grinned. "As long as they don't act too strange I guess we can always claim that their behaviour is due to their being British."

After about an hour they ended their walk in a beer garden close to the hotel and sat down on simple benches under large chestnut trees. They were served strange Bavarian food and beer in immense steins, and when after a few minutes a small brass band started to play, Stella's relatives and her Slytherin friends looked as if they had tumbled down Alice's rabbit hole and found themselves lost in a strange world. With a mischievous glitter in her eyes, Hermione took out her muggle-camera and took several pictures in which a scowling Snape, once even together with a buxom waitress in dirndl, featured prominently. "Minerva told me to take lots of photos," she said in answer to his dark looks. "She thought a few pictures of us in these pleasant surroundings might brighten up the Common Room."

"You will not do such a thing," he growled. "If you show these pictures to anyone I promise there'll be a very painful accident in the laboratory."

Hermione just smirked and went on taking pictures. After half an hour they were joined by Christian and some of his friends, and Hermione soon found herself deep in conversation with his best man who was doing a doctorate in Physics. While she and her friends talked to the German muggles, most of whom spoke English quite well, she noticed that Stella's relatives and Slytherin friends stuck to themselves. Well, it probably would have been too much to expect that they'd behave differently. And as long as they didn't do anything to embarrass Stella Hermione would be happy.

They kept sitting long after they had finished their meal, sipping at the large beer steins and enjoying the mild air, Hermione talking animatedly to her old friends and new acquaintances. A few times she caught a glance from Snape who was sitting lower down the table, and was wondering why he was looking at her. But he left early and Hermione shrugged away these thoughts. This was her holiday, her two days away from Hogwarts and all the problems of her normal life, and she wanted to enjoy it as much as possible.

In spite of the unaccustomed surrounding and the worry about Padma Hermione slept well that night. She woke up early and decided to go for a short walk around the village. It promised to be a sunny day and she deeply inhaled the fresh air still cool from the night. When she returned, only Gareth and one of Stella's Slytherin friends were already at breakfast. Hermione sat down at their table and made a bit small-talk. The Slytherin, a delicate redhead called Cornelia, was guarded at first, but loosened up eventually and seemed willing enough to overcome old house-prejudices.

"What about Matthew?" Hermione finally asked Gareth.

He gave her a mischievous smile. "Too much beer. He only groaned when I got up. But I'll try to wake him when I get back to our room."

More people were coming down to breakfast now, and Hermione returned to her room to get ready for the wedding ceremony which would take place in two hours. Stella had told her that formal dress wouldn't be required, and so when Hermione had been shopping in London on that afternoon before her kidnapping she had bought a simple but elegantly cut light dress in dark blue. She left her long hair open to cascade down her bare shoulders and back and only secured those strands which would otherwise have hung in her face with Lupin's slide. After performing a quick spell which would keep her notorious hair from entangling too much, she was happy with her appearance and turned to the necklace she wanted to wear. It was an heirloom of her great-grandmother, a short silver chain with an antique sapphire pendant. Unfortunately the catch of the chain was rather complicated to open, and so she set out to her friends' room to ask them to fasten it for her.

When Gareth opened the door at her knock, Matthew was still laying in bed, groaning softly. "Could you do me a favour and put this on for me?" Hermione said, holding the necklace to Gareth. "The catch is a bit intricate and it always takes me ages if I try it on my own."

Gareth nodded consent and fumbled with the catch while Hermione held her hair out of the way and looked at Matthew critically. "You know, after our time in St Andrews I thought you'd know several hangover-spells," she wondered when Gareth had finished.

He gave her a big grin. "I do, I just wanted him to savour it a bit."

Shaking her head smilingly, Hermione rearranged her hair and shot herself a critical look in the mirror.

"You look great, Hermione," Gareth assured her. "You know I've always loved you hair, and with this dress you shouldn't have problems if you wanted to turn the heads of some of Christian's friends."

Hermione smiled at him gratefully. She liked Gareth a lot, and for some months in her third year at St Andrews she and the intelligent dark-haired Ravenclaw had been a couple. It had been a pleasant time, but Hermione had soon found out that she didn't really love him and since he felt the same about her they finally had decided to just stay friends. Nevertheless, it was always nice to get a compliment from him.

The wedding was held in the small local church, a fine example of the Baroque style with its interior of pictures, statues and ornaments run wild. Hermione was surprised by the interactivity of the Catholic service, the people around them getting up, sitting down or kneeling all the time in well practiced orchestra, mumbling answers to whatever the priest had said, while she and the other British guests remained seated. The service was held in German, the hard tones of the language alleviated by the soft Bavarian dialect, and only when Stella and Christian spoke their vows they repeated them in English as well. Thus Hermione had time to let her mind wander and to observe the people around her, many of whom wore traditional costumes. She mused how utterly strange this must seem to the pure-bloods, who probably never had attended church before, and couldn't quite hide a smile. Stella looked lovely in a simple white wedding dress, her long blonde hair draped up in a complicated knot. She was smiling all the time, and when Christian looked at her with what could only be described as utter devotion Hermione grew a bit wistful watching them.

After the service the newly wed couple had to perform a number of strange tasks just outside of the church to the entertainment and applause of the guests, including sawing a thin log to prove that they could work together well. After that they went back to the hotel for the reception.

They spent the rest of the day eating alarming amounts of food and taking part in strange games that Christian's friends and relatives had thought up. While Hermione and her friends and even Stella's two Slytherin friends took part willingly enough, Snape and Stella's aunt and uncle flatly refused, and were finally left alone. Later on there was dancing, ballroom as well as disco-style, and Hermione hardly ever left the floor, dancing with Matthew and Gareth, Winfred Kendrick and several muggles. Snape flatly refused to dance, in spite of some attempts by local women who asked him. Hermione was reluctant to ask because she didn't want others to think that they had more than a distanced professional relationship. He would have to explain his being at this wedding to his Death Eater friends anyway, and she didn't want to make it any harder.

Hermione enjoyed herself very much, but the dancing was strenuous and after she had danced a rather fast Jive she wanted to get some fresh air. "I'm going outside for a bit," she told Matthew with whom she had been dancing.

"Good idea," he said. "Is it ok when I come with you?"

She nodded, fetched a light jacket and they went outside into the garden. They walked around for a few minutes under the star-strewn clear sky, enjoying the fresh night air. The moon was nearly full and with a pang Hermione thought of Lupin back home. Finally they sat down on a small wooden bench under a large birch tree which looked out over the dark outlines of the valley and the black masses of the mountains.

"It's beautiful here, isn't it?" Hermione said.

"It sure is," Matthew replied. "I wished we could stay longer and do a bit of hiking. I asked Christian about it, and he said we should return in autumn when the leaves turn red and yellow. What do you think?"

"I'd love to," Hermione said enthusiastically. "We really should do it. Let's talk to Gareth and Stella and see what they think. And Padma, of course." Her voice trailed off.

"Listen, Hermione," Matthew said hesitantly after a few moments of silence, "I wanted to ask you how you are…after what happened to you, I mean." He shot her a concerned look. "I didn't want to ask in front of the others, since you don't want them to know, but, well, I'd like to know."

Hermione felt touched. "That's very nice of you. I feel fine, really. I… I had some nightmares the first nights after it happened, but they have stopped. And as long as I'm in Hogwarts I think I'm in no danger. I'm more worried about my parents, but they are watched over." She shot him a crooked smile. "And even here I'm being looked after. That's one of the reasons why Snape is here."

Matthew's eyes widened. "That explains why he is constantly looking at you with this frowning expression on his face."

Hermione felt a sudden jolt in her stomach. "Is he? I hadn't noticed."

Matthew smiled sarcastically. "Believe me, he is. When we were dancing he was glowering at me as if I'd try to snatch you away or something." He snorted. "I felt eerily transferred back into third year. I was terribly afraid of him then."

Hermione grinned. "Who wasn't. But he's really not so bad once you are no longer his student."

Matthew looked a bit doubtfully. "If you say so. Anyway, I'm glad he keeps an eye on you, he's certainly a very powerful wizard."

The music which wafted towards them from the house suddenly changed into a well-known waltz-tune and Matthew started. "Listen, Hermione, I have to get back, I promised Christian's friend Maria to dance the next waltz with her. Are you coming?"

Hermione shook her head. "I think I'll stay a bit. But don't worry," she said when she saw his doubting face, "I don't think I'm in danger here, and I have my wand with me."

Still looking a bit worried, Matthew nodded slowly. "But don't stay too long, ok? Or I'll come looking for you."

"Sure. Enjoy your dance," she replied and he got up and hurried towards the house. Hermione sighed quietly. It was nice to be by herself after being around people the whole day, to just sit there looking out onto the moonlit landscape and listening to the dimmed music and the soft tingling of cowbells.

"You shouldn't be here alone."

The voice made her start. "Heaven, Severus, why do you sneak up on me like that!" she exclaimed, looking up on his towering form which had suddenly appeared at her side.

"To show you how easily you could have been surprised," he growled. "You're lucky it was only me."

"Your concern touches me," she said, "but you nearly gave me a heart attack. Come, sit down." He remained standing, looking strangely unfamiliar in his well cut dark muggle-suit, his shadowy face expressing irritation. "I'm no going back anytime soon," Hermione said, "so if you insist on looking after me you can either stand around or sit down here with me. I'm not biting, you know."

He shot her a glowering look but then sat down at the end of the small bench, as far away from her as possible.

Hermione hadn't had a chance to talk to him since the afternoon before, and was curious to know what he thought about their stay. "So are you enjoying yourself?" she asked.

His lips curled in a slightly disdainful smile. "It is certainly…educating."

"Well I like it," Hermione replied unperturbed. "Just look at the landscape," and she made a sweeping gesture with her arms.

Snape raised an eyebrow. "I'm afraid I've never been someone to appreciate the wonders of nature."

She shrugged. "Your loss. I wished I could stay longer. But perhaps I'll return in the autumn for some hiking. It's so peaceful here…" She hesitated. "Have you ever wanted to run away?"

He looked surprised. "You mean from the fight?" Hermione nodded. "No, never."

She gave him a slightly mischievous smile. "How Gryffindor-like."

Snape snorted. "Please, don't insult me."

"But you can't deny that your actions are very un-Slytherin," Hermione went on, laughter dancing in her eyes. "You're not trying to save yourself, but working for your friends and the greater good."

Snape snorted again. "You can believe what you like, but I can assure you there is nothing whatsoever Gryffindor in me."

Hermione just smiled and looked out into the night. "What are you going to do afterwards," she suddenly said. "After we've defeated Voldemort I mean."

He was silent for a few moments. "I don't know," he finally said.

She looked at him in surprise. "But you must have thought about it. I mean you could finally stop teaching and do something you really like."

His mouth twitched. "That's certainly a tempting idea. But I don't think there is much use in planning for a future which is so uncertain and might never come."

Hermione felt a cold shiver run down her spine. "You mean because you might be killed?" she asked softly, studying his face.

His features were as composed as always. "That is certainly possible."

"And you are not afraid?"

"Of dying? No." He said it without any emotion, no more than a simple statement.

Hermione looked away, up into the star-filled sky. "Well, I am afraid of dying," she finally said in a low voice. "I… I was very afraid when I was kidnapped. Perhaps not so much of dying, but rather of being hurt. And I'm afraid that my friends or my parents may be killed."

Snape didn't say anything and after a few moments Hermione glanced back at him, surprised to find him looking at her intently with an unreadable expression in his eyes.

"There...there is something I wanted to ask you." She said haltingly.

He grimaced. "There is certainly nothing which could stop Hermione Granger from asking a question. So pray do."

She swallowed. "I wanted to ask you... If I ever should be caught by Voldemort or his followers, and there is no chance that I might escape... Would you give me a quick death..."

Snape's dark eyes widened and his face grew stony. "Don't ask me to do that," he said, his voice strangely hoarse.

Hermione didn't flinch from his burning look. "It'd be an act of mercy," she said in a low voice. "I... I don't want to end like Neville's parents... or Sarah..."

Sudden pain swept over his face and he looked away quickly, out into the night. Minutes passed in silence, only broken by dimmed music and laughter from the house.

"Whatever you may think," he finally said very quietly, "killing has never been easy for me. And I certainly won't kill you. If you should ever be caught there will be...other alternatives."

Hermione shook her head. "You know you mustn't blow your cover by helping me. You are far too important for the cause, and I don't want you to risk your life because of me."

He snorted, his customary mask back in place. "I'm touched by your concern, even if I don't understand how I merit it."

"You don't?" Hermione asked softly. Suddenly she felt very strange. It was as if the world had dropped away and there was only his still and tense form less than a foot away from her. "You are my friend, Severus, and I care for you. That's why I don't want you to die. It's quite simple, really."

There was a curious light in his eyes, a spark which lit up for a moment and then vanished, replaced by an unfamiliar softness. "I'm honoured, Hermione Granger," he said quietly.

She gave him a tentative smile. "Then I hope you will help me...if I should ever need it."

He looked away again. "It's late," he suddenly said in his usual, composed tone. "Should we return?"

"Yes," Hermione answered and got up, shaken by their strange conversation. He held out his arm for her and she took it, glad for the feeling of closeness it gave her.

When they had returned Hermione joined her friends again, and Snape went to sit with Stella's mother. About an hour later Hermione decided to call it a night and took her leave from those who were still awake. Snape likewise got up and followed her up the stairs.

"You know you take your bodyguard-duties rather seriously?" she said in a mocking voice.

He snorted. "As hard as it may seem, my departure has nothing to do with you. I've just had enough of muggle-wedding-celebrations."

"Is that so?" She said raising an eyebrow.

They had arrived at his door, yet somehow Hermione was loath to already say good-bye, although the voice of reason told her that she really should.

"So how do you like being back in the muggle-world?" She asked to keep him from just disappearing into his room.

"It is...an interesting experience," he replied, a wry smile tucking his lips. "Certainly the television programme hasn't got better since my childhood."

Hermione's eyes sparkled with amused surprise. "So you watched TV as a child?" Somehow the image was just too incongruous. "And now you watched so much of – let me point that out – _German_ television that you come to the conclusion that hardly anything is different?"

He looked at her with mock severity. "Since you and your friends decided to spend the last evening immersing yourself not only into Bavarian culture but also beer there was nothing else for me to do."

"You could have read a book, you know."

"True, and I did until the lures of_The Avengers_ dubbed into German proved too hard to resist."

Hermione laughed out loud. "Severus, you surprise me," she said teasingly, "there are terrifying depths in you I never thought of."

His mouth twitched treacherously. "You have no idea." Their eyes locked and there was a strange silence for a few moments. "Well, Good night then," he suddenly said and turned to open his door.

"Good night, Severus," Hermione replied and made for her own room further down the hallway. After a few steps she stopped. "Wait, could you help me with something?"

He had already entered his room and now came out again, looking at her questioningly. "It's my necklace," Hermione explained. "The catch is rather complicated, and it takes me ages to open it on my own."

"Come in then," he said brusquely.

Hermione went into his room, leaving the door slightly open, and turned her back to him. She lowered her head a bit and held her hair away so that he could open the catch. Her neck and shoulders felt cold because of the sudden exposure, and she shivered as his cool fingers touched her skin. It seemed to take rather long for him to open the catch, and Hermione was deeply conscious of his touch and his close presence right behind her. Finally he opened the necklace and her fingers closed around it, letting go of her hair which fell down over her back and on his hands which were somehow still lingering on her shoulders. When she turned to face him he jerked them away as if he had been burned, and Hermione noticed a curiously confused expression on his face, as if he was just waking from a dream. They stood very close and the strange feeling Hermione had experienced out in the garden returned. There was an odd change in the atmosphere and everything around them suddenly seemed very still, as if the world was holding its breath.

"I will help you," Snape finally said very quietly, breaking the strange stillness. There was a peculiar intensity in his eyes. "If you should be caught…I will do what you asked me to do."

"Thank you," Hermione said, staring into his dark eyes and feeling very weak in her knees. "That means a lot to me." He was maddeningly close, and a part of her wanted to just reach out and kiss him very much, while another part screamed at her to get the hell out of the room.

All of a sudden his fingers very lightly brushed against hers which were still holding the necklace, and as in a dream her hand opened and her fingers touched his while all the time their eyes were locked, his gaze very serious and something like fear in his eyes.

Sudden footsteps and laughter on the staircase broke the moment, and Snape jerked back a few steps.

"I… I have to go," Hermione said, blushing furiously. "I… Good night, Severus."

His eyes didn't meet hers. "Good night, Hermione." He turned away and she hurried out of his room and into her own just as two of Christian's friends entered the corridor.


	20. The price to pay

_Thanks a lot for your reviews, they really make my day! I'm glad you agree with me that it's better to have their relationship develop slowly. I know it's frustrating, but I promise they'll kiss eventually ;-). Enjoy! _

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**The price to pay**

Hermione hardly slept that night, her mind too agitated by what had happened – or had nearly happened. She replayed her two conversations with Snape a hundred times, shocked by her own behaviour and susceptibility to his presence, and confused by his reactions. He had reacted in some way, that much she was sure of. But what it meant, and if it meant anything was something she didn't dare to phantom.

"That much for being careful and not trying to get closer to him," Hermione thought wryly as she lay in her bed, exasperated at her own lack of control. "Get a grip Hermione!" But her treacherous memory replayed the way he had looked at her, the things he had said, the touch of his cool fingers on her bare neck and the feeling as his fingers had brushed against hers. What should she make of it? And what should she do now? Still, nothing had happened, really, and so at the end Hermione decided to wait how Snape would behave the next day, and to act accordingly.

At breakfast he sat down at another table, only nodding at her curtly when she wished him a good morning. They departed shortly after and Stella and Christian drove them back to the glade in the forest from where they apparated to Britain. All the time Snape treated Hermione in a slightly distanced way, and although she was confused and a bit disappointed, a part of her was also glad for it. If he wanted to act as if nothing had happened, she certainly could as well. For a few moments she even wondered if the events of the night before had been some kind of wild hallucination brought on by wishful thinking, but she trusted herself enough to know that something had happened, however hard Snape tried to behave as if it hadn't.

After they had apparated to the Hogwarts grounds they walked towards the castle in silence, Snape striding so fast that Hermione had trouble keeping up. As soon as they entered the castle he disappeared with hardly a good-bye. Hermione went to her rooms to get rid of her suitcase, and then set out to talk to Dumbledore about Padma.

As she had expected, the headmaster was intrigued by the strange coincidence of Padma's accident and Hermione's kidnapping. He agreed that there was as yet no evidence that they were connected, but said that he'd ask Arthur Weasley for more information, and would also tell his friends in St Mungo's to keep an eye on Padma.

Hermione hardly saw Snape during the following days, and the few times she met him he was distanced and moody. On Wednesday night, Snape was called by Voldemort. Hermione didn't know about it until the day after, when Lupin told her.

"I met him when he returned," he said as they were both sitting in the teachers' common room. "Gave me quite a start, to be honest, when I turned a corner and nearly bumped into him wearing his black Death Eater cloak."

"Was he alright?" Hermione asked worriedly.

"He wasn't injured, if you mean that." Lupin paused. "But he looked very drawn. He hasn't been called often lately, has he?"

Hermione shook her head. "Not as far as I know. Or at least not to take part in any of Voldemort's raids." Voldemort had kept a low profile during the last months, but Hermione knew that there were still sporadic attacks on muggles and other people who had somehow provoked his displeasure. "Severus said that Voldemort had enough new followers who were eager to take part in those attacks and whom Voldemort wanted to test by having them participate."

Lupin grimaced. "That's good for Severus, but bad for us. But he won't be able to keep away from Voldemort's attacks forever." He looked pensively. "Poor Severus," he finally said with a concerned expression, "what kind of life does he have…"

_What life indeed_, Hermione thought worriedly.

**...**

The next Saturday Stella, Matthew and Gareth came to Hogwarts. They spent the morning at the castle, visiting old haunts and saying hello to the teachers before they apparated to St Mungo's after lunch to visit Padma. She was laying in a room with two other patients suffering from spell-induced injuries, a woman who could not longer speak but only bark, and another who seemed to be alright, but whose arms where strapped to the bed. Hermione shot her a suspicious glance but then sat down beside Padma's bed and scrutinized her friend.

She looked as if she were sleeping. The injuries she had sustained in the accident had healed, and her face looked very peaceful, if rather pale. There was not really much they could do, apart from talking to her, and so they gave her all the latest news. After a while they ran out of things to tell and, after standing around uncomfortably for a few more minutes, they finally left. They met a healer in the corridor, but when they asked him what he thought of Padma's chances he just shrugged. "She was lucky she survived," he said. "I don't know if she'll ever wake up. And even if she does her mind might be affected."

They all felt rather downcast when they left the hospital. Stella proposed having something to eat and drink at a nearby muggle-café, but their talk was muted and they separated not long after.

Hermione spent the evening working for Anistaphala. With the potions for the ritual nearly finished, she at last had time to concentrate on her work for the Ministry again. But her mind kept wandering to the events of the afternoon and to the picture of Padma laying in the hospital bed. Would she ever wake up again? And if she did, would she be able to tell them what had happened, and if there was a connection to Hermione's kidnapping? Or had it just been a coincidence?

A few minutes after midnight that night Hermione left her rooms for Snape's laboratory. She had a potion brewing for Anistaphala which needed to be checked before she could go to sleep. The castle was dark and quiet, and she met no one apart from the Bloody Baron as she went down to the dungeons. Quickly Hermione went through the classroom laboratory and lifted the wards which guarded Snape's own laboratory. It was dimly lit by the flames under her cauldron, and she only lit a few of the magical lamps nearby to illuminate the table on which she was working. When she was satisfied with the light, Hermione got a glass spoons and stirred the potion carefully, scrutinizing its colour and smell. It looked alright and Hermione cut a few ingredients which needed to be added now. When she had prepared them she stirred the potion for five minutes in a very precise fashion and then added the ingredients one after the other. She held her breath, as she always did at such a crucial moment, but the greenish colour of the potion slowly changed into a muddy brown one and she let out her breath in relief. Now she had to wait for another 28 minutes before she could add the last ingredient.

It was an infusion of yew bark and Hermione prepared it in a small cauldron nearby, but was done after ten minutes. Now all she could do was wait. She looked around the laboratory to find something to do, but as always it was in impeccable condition. Hermione sighed. She hadn't even thought about bringing a book, a sure sign how Padma's condition had preoccupied her. She started cleaning up her table as far as possible, checking on the potion from time to time, but finally sat down on a chair and looked out into the dark recesses of the laboratory, waiting for the 28 minutes to end.

Suddenly there was a noise and movement to her right and Hermione sprang up from her chair, pulling out her wand. In the dim light she saw that the secret passageway to Snape's private quarters had opened, revealing the dark figure of the Potions Master.

"Oh, it's only you," Hermione said, lowering her wand and feeling a bit embarrassed at her reaction. To her surprise she saw that he had shed his customary robes and was wearing black trousers and a white shirt which stood out against the dimness of the room. In all the months she had now worked with him she had never seen him with anything else but his robes or a muggle-suit – his armour, as she had come to call it.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, still standing in the doorway.

Hermione gestured to the cauldron beside her. "I had to work on a potion for Anistaphala. But I'll be done in", she looked at her watch, "two minutes. What about you?" She eyed him curiously. There was something strange about his behaviour. True, after their…encounter…in Germany he had been distanced again, but somehow this felt different.

"I wanted to get something," he replied rather vaguely, left the doorway and went towards a large cupboard at the opposite wall of the laboratory where he kept a supply of medical potions.

Hermione furrowed her brow, observing him. Something in the way he walked seemed slightly off. With a start she remembered her potion, and quickly added the last ingredient, stirring the mixture carefully in the required way. She heard Snape rummaging in the cupboard and then crossing the room again, surprisingly enough without giving as much as a glance to the potion she was brewing. He had already reached the door when she was finished and called out "Wait, Severus, is everything alright?"

He stopped in the doorway, holding three phials in his hands. Hermione heard a faint tinkling, and with a start realized that he was shaking, the phials in his hands clinking together. With a few steps she was at is side.

When she got closer to Snape the worry she was feeling grew. His face was very pale, which in itself wasn't that extraordinary, but even in the dim light at this part of the laboratory she could see deep, unfamiliar lines in it and a haunted look in his eyes. And he was shaking, a silent tremor which gripped his whole body. Hermione suddenly felt very cold. Something terrible must have happened to bring him to this state.

"What happened," she asked, not able to hide the worry in her voice.

Snape retreated a bit into the darkness of the doorway, looking away from her. "Nothing," he said with fake composure. "If you'll excuse me, I had a long day." And he turned to leave.

"Wait," Hermione called out, reaching for his arm to keep him from leaving. He jerked it away from her immediately, but she had nevertheless felt the tremor shaking his body. Snape retreated a step further into the dark corridor, and she could hardly see his face now.

"Would you please leave me alone," he said, and Hermione was hit by the pleading note under the customary snarl. She had never heard anything like this from him. There was something very wrong here, and she wanted to help him, but how could she do this when this notoriously private man kept pushing her away?

Hermione retreated a bit into the laboratory. "I'm sorry, Severus," she said slowly. "I didn't want to impose myself on you. I just had the feeling that something terrible has happened, and I was worried."

She waited for a reaction, holding her breath and staring at his dark figure in the corridor. "It's nothing to do with you," he finally said, "or the Order. Don't worry, your friends and parents are save."

Hermione heaved a sigh of relief. "But what has happened then?" She hesitated. "Has Voldemort called you again? So soon?"

The silence was confirmation enough. "Did he hurt you?" she asked carefully.

He laughed, a chilly, mirthless laugh which sent a shiver down Hermione's spine. "Great Merlin, Hermione, why can't you just leave me alone," he said, anger and annoyance and something like despair in his voice.

"Because you are my friend, remember?" she replied quietly. "I can see you're not well, and I'm worried about you."

He gave an exasperated sigh and slowly came out of the dark corridor. "And if I can reassure you that I am alright you'll leave?" he asked.

She nodded, scrutinizing his face. "I will."

"Well," he said, clutching the phials to his breast to stop them from tinkling, "you're right, the Dark Lord called me tonight. But as you can see I'm not harmed, and as soon as I've taken these" he glanced down on the phials, "and get a few hours of sleep I'll be nothing the worse for wear."

Hermione scrutinized the phials. "Headache Potion, a Sleeping and a Calming Draught?" she asked, relieved to know that he obviously didn't need anything stronger.

"As I said, I wasn't harmed."

"But something else has happened, hasn't it?" she said softly, holding his gaze.

He broke the eye-contact and clenched his jaw. "Has anyone ever told you that this curiosity is rather unattractive," he said in an attempt at his customary snarl.

She shrugged her shoulders. "You know I'm an inquisitive person." Catching his gaze again, she saw the tenseness in his face and the haunted expression in his eyes. Suddenly there was a clangour which made her jump, but when she looked down she saw that it was only one of the phials which he had obviously let slip and which had broken on the floor.

"Damn!" he muttered under his breath, staring down at his feet. Hermione got her wand out, cast _Evanesco_ and _Reparo_ and knelt down to pick up the now empty phial. Getting up again, she saw that Snape's tremor had intensified.

"Why don't you tell me what happened?" she asked softly, reaching out to take the two other phials from his shaking hands. He held onto them for a second, then let go, crossing his arms in front of his breast.

"Because it's none of your business," he said in a dull tone. His behaviour and especially his shaking frightened her more than she dared to show. Snape seemed to be in some kind of shock, and she couldn't just leave him now. Putting down the phials on a table nearby, Hermione summoned a chair and cast a spell to make the room a little warmer. "Sit down," she said in her best nurse voice, and to her surprise he complied without a comment. "I'll get you a new Sleeping Draught. I think you better take these now," she said, gesturing to the Headache Potion and the Calming Draught. He reached out for them and downed them, a faraway look in his eyes as if he wasn't really present. Hermione went to fetch the Sleeping Draught from the cupboard, taking another Calming Draught with her. When she returned to Snape she conjured a glass of water which he drank in thirsty draughts. His shaking had lessened a little, but Hermione still wasn't sure if he wasn't in some kind of shock, and accordingly lit a fire in the fireplace and then got out of the teachers robes she was wearing against the chill of the castle's corridors and put them around his shoulders.

"This isn't necessary," he murmured, trying to shrug off her robes.

"Yes, it is," she said sternly.

His mouth tucked in a wry smile. "Playing nurse?"

Hermione conjured another chair for herself and sat down opposite of him, their knees nearly touching. "If it's necessary. Is there anything else I can do?"

He shook his head. "No." He hesitated. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

He conjured a second glass of water himself and took a few sips. Hermione was quiet, not sure how to proceed. Should she try to make him talk, although he obviously didn't want to? Or should she just leave him alone and go to bed? Snape was looking down on his hands now. The tremor had eased and the long, slender fingers lay still in his lap.

"Why don't you want to tell me what happened," Hermione finally said softly.

"Because it doesn't concern you," he replied in a tired voice.

"But it obviously troubles you."

He laughed his mirthless laughter again. "Didn't I tell you not long ago that you ask too many questions?"

She felt hurt, and she knew that that was exactly what he had wanted to achieve with his reference to their quarrel several weeks ago. "Why do you push me away?" she said softly. "I just want to help you."

He closed his eyes for a moment. "I don't need your help," he said flatly.

On an impulse, Hermione reached out to take his hands which were still lying in his lap. He jerked them away immediately, his eyes flashing angry sparks. "Merlin, Hermione!" he hissed, "can't you just stop butting into my life? You're not a psychiatrist, and I'm not your patient! And neither am I Potter or Weasley who come running to you with every tiny problem they have to fix it for them."

"But you're my friend," she said, her voice shaking slightly now. "Are you not?"

Snape was silent, looking away from her again. "You say I am." He paused. "If you truly are my friend," he went on, "you should respect that there are things I don't want to tell you. Can you accept that?"

His eyes sought hers and she nodded slowly. "Please don't think that I want to pry, I just thought that you'd feel better if you told me."

A look of pain crossed his face. "Believe me, you wouldn't want to hear about it." And more quietly, as if talking to himself, he said "and I wouldn't want you to know."

A few minutes passed in silence, Snape staring down on his hands, his face shadowed by his dark hair. Hermione had a hunch what might have happened, and, her body tense with expectation, she finally asked.

"Did you have to do something terrible tonight?"

His head jerked up, his face contorted into a frightful grimace and his dark eyes burning into hers. "You still don't understand what I am, do you?" he hissed in a pressed voice. "What I did. And what I still do?" He was shaking again, if with fury or anything else Hermione didn't know. She was staring at him, transfixed by his anger and the frantic motion with which he suddenly tore at the sleeve of his left arm. When he had opened the cuff he jerked the sleeve upwards and held his arm towards her. The Dark Mark was starkly visible against the whiteness of his skin, a sinister black wound radiating darkness. "Do you see this?" he shouted, his voice rasping, "is it really so hard to understand what I am?"

Hermione was hit by the self-loathing in Snape's voice. His breath went roughly, his dark eyes still fixed on her face with a fierce expression. She felt fear and dread at the sight of the Dark Mark, but above all pain and sadness because of what Snape had gone through and because he seemed to hate and loathe himself so much. Hermione gulped and suddenly noticed that tears had come into her eyes. Blinking heavily to hold them back, she stared down at his Dark Mark. She had never seen it before, and although she had known that it was there, its sight still shocked her. But she wouldn't let him think that she was repulsed by it, that she despised him for what he had done. Tentatively Hermione reached out with her right hand and very lightly touched the Dark Mark. Snape started but she lightly closed her hand around his underarm and whispered "Please don't." She looked up at him, scrutinizing his tense face. "Not what you have done in your past is important," she said, her fingers lingering on his arm. "And not what he forces you to do now. It's what you have decided to do. To risk your life to help and protect us and so many others." She smiled at him tentatively. "You are the bravest man I know."

His mouth twitched as he stared at her face. "You are naïve," he replied, trying to make his voice sound dispassionate but failing. "You have no idea what you're talking about, you don't know what I did tonight."

Hermione felt coldness spreading through her body at his words, but she didn't break the eye-contact and she didn't let go of his arm.

"Then tell me," she whispered.

"No," he said flatly. Breaking the eye-contact, he looked down on his hands again and on her fingers still touching the Dark Mark.

Hermione felt very nervous, but knew she couldn't stop now. "Severus, I won't think any different or less of you, no matter what he forced you to do tonight," she said softly.

He looked up again and she was startled by the pain in his eyes. "Oh yes, you will," he said flatly. He stared at her with an unreadable expression for some time, then, after a few moments, he said with something like defeat "Stubborn Gryffindor. I don't think I'll get any sleep before I satisfy your curiosity."

Heaving an internal, relieved sigh, Hermione gave him a tentative smile. "No, you won't." She straightening up a bit and her hand left the Dark Mark. Instead she reached out her left hand as well and took his long cold fingers into her hands, pressing them very lightly. He didn't jerk them away, only looked at her in an unfathomable way. "Voldemort called you tonight?"

He nodded slowly, staring down at her hands wrapped around his fingers. "Yes. I hadn't expected that since he had called me only on Wednesday."

"What did he want," Hermione asked softly.

Snape raised his face again, meeting her eyes. "To test my loyalty," he said simply.

Hermione drew in her breath. "Has he found out anything about your work for the Order?" she asked worriedly.

"No," he shook his head with a wry smile. "If he had I wouldn't be here now. I don't know what the reason was, perhaps my attending Stella's wedding, or something else. Or perhaps he just thought that it was time again for me to show him my utter devotion."

Snape's voice trailed off and his eyes got a faraway look, as if he wasn't really seeing her anymore. Hermione stayed quiet, holding his hands and waiting for him to go on.

"Do you remember Agnes Wilson?" he suddenly asked.

Hermione furrowed her brow, surprised by the turn the conversation had taken. "From Ravenclaw? Not well, she was four years above me, wasn't she?"

"Yes, she was," he replied in a flat voice, that strange distant look still in his eyes.

Hermione felt colder and colder, sure that something terrible had happened in which Agnes had obviously played a part. "What about her?" she finally asked haltingly.

He shook his head a little and when he looked at her again his eyes had lost their faraway look. "The Dark Lord took me and two followers to her," he said in that strange, unemotional voice. "I didn't know where we were heading, and even if I had known there was nothing I could have done. She was muggle-born, and she married a muggle, an old friend of hers, not long ago. They had a small child, a girl…" his voice trailed off.

Hermione felt a knot in her chest, a terrible foreboding of what had happened. Suddenly his fingers, which until now had lain still in her hands, grasped her fingers, pressing them so hard Hermione nearly gasped.

"He only told me where we were when we arrived. Agnes and her husband were still up when we entered their house, but they had no chance against Voldemort and three Death Eaters. She fought like a lioness, trying to protect her daughter…" his voice caught and his hands pressed hers even stronger, but she hardly felt it, transfixed by the pain in his burning eyes. "Somehow she managed to rip the mask off my face, and she recognized me immediately." His voice was hardly audible now. "The look in her eyes was…I don't know…so full of surprise. Utter surprise. And then shock. She stammered 'Professor, what are you doing?', and then one of the others killed her. Even when she was dead she still had that surprised expression on her face."

He was shaking again, and Hermione felt tremors running through her body, too. A few hot tears ran down her face and she felt sick. "What happened to the child?" she asked in a hoarse voice.

He only shook his head. "I… I had to kill her husband," he said dispassionately after a few moments of silence. "The Dark Lord ordered me, and I couldn't refuse… I couldn't refuse…" His eyes were wide with terror and pain, his face so tense it looked like stone. Suddenly he looked down on their entwined hands, as if surprised that he was holding her hands so tightly, and slowly released his grip, but still held her fingers in his.

When he looked up again his face looked more composed, but utterly weary. "That's what I did tonight," he said flatly, searching her face. "Didn't I tell you you wouldn't want to know? I made you cry."

Trying to hold back her tears, Hermione gave him a shaky smile. "I'm so sorry, Severus," she said, her voice trembling. "So sorry." She wanted to reach out to him, to hug him, to stroke his stony, tired face, to help him come to terms with what had happened and to show him that she didn't like him any less for it. But she knew she couldn't do that.

"So am I," he said flatly. He let go of her left hand and reached for the glass of water, but kept holding her right hand. He downed the water in a long gulp and then rubbed his forehead and temples. "I don't know how much more of this I can take," he suddenly said slowly, not looking at her but out into the depths of the laboratory. "You would think that it gets easier, after all those years, but it doesn't. It never does…"

"It might be over soon," Hermione said with false cheerfulness.

Snape's gaze returned to her face. "You have no idea how much I wish for that," he said, his eyes assuming their faraway look again. Suddenly he let go of her hand, brushed his hand over his brow and got up from his chair. "I'll go to bed now," he stated. "If you let me," he added with a rather forced wry smile.

Hermione got up as well. "Of course." She hesitated. "Thanks for telling me, Severus." She paused, unsure what to say. "I know it's not your fault," she finally said softly. "You must believe me that this doesn't change my regard for you."

He looked at her intently, the tenseness of his face lessening a little. "I wished that were true," he replied quietly. He gathered up the phials. "Thanks for listening." Then he turned abruptly, went towards the secret passageway and left the laboratory.

When the wall had closed over the secret entrance Hermione sank down on the chair. Slowly tears began to run down her face again, tears for Agnes, her husband and her daughter, and tears for Snape, who, no matter how the fight against Voldemort would finally end, would have to live with his actions for the rest of his life.


	21. The bra affair

**T****he bra affair**

When Hermione saw Snape at breakfast the next morning he still looked rather tired, but collected. She had wondered if he'd show up since that would probably be the time when the news of the murder would be broken to the teachers and students. And she had been right. Unlike most of Voldemort's recent attacks, the murder of Agnes and her family had made the front page of the _Daily Prophet_, shocking the students and especially the teachers who had taught her. Flitwick, her old Head of House, couldn't prevent tears from running down his cheeks, and McGonagall got very white and stared into nothingness, her mouth pressed into a thin line. The other teachers were either silent with shock or discussed this new attack furiously. Snape sat between them very still, staring down at his plate, but hardly eating. Hermione caught Dumbledore looking at him with an expression of great sadness, but when Snape finally glanced up and met her eyes she looked away quickly, not wanting him to think that she had been observing him.

The following days Hermione and Snape were busy completing the final potion needed for the ritual. The teachers who were responsible for the charms and incantations still had a few problems, and Flitwick and Dumbledore were discussing if they should consult Elektra Anistaphala, who after all was one of the leading charms experts and would also be valuable when they'd actually perform the ritual. The real problem however was that even when they got all the potions and incantations right they still had to get Voldemort into a position where they could perform the ritual on him and where he wouldn't struggle against it. Hermione had no idea how they could ever affect that, but Dumbledore told them that he'd see to it and they all trusted him well enough not to doubt him.

Snape never mentioned what he had told Hermione about the night in which Agnes died, but the distanced way in which he had acted around her after their stay in Germany slowly turned into a more relaxed behaviour again. Hermione was glad for the return to near-friendship and felt disproportionally happy every time she could elicit as much as a tiny smile from him. As far as she knew Snape hadn't been called again, and she hoped it would stay like that for as long as possible.

On a Saturday evening at the end of May, Hermione set out for Luna's rooms to celebrate her birthday. Neville, Lupin, Hagrid, Harry, Ron and Ginny were coming as well, and she was looking forward to a pleasant evening with her friends, sitting around eating good food and chatting animatedly.

Luna, however, had different ideas, and when she had opened their presents she told them that she'd prepared a game for them.

"A game?" Harry said questioningly while Luna smiled at him, a slightly dreamy look in her eyes.

"It's a bit like a paper chase," she explained. "You'll split into three teams and you'll have to solve certain riddles to be able to find the prize. The group which brings it back first without damaging it, and without using magic at all, will not only get the prize, but also two tickets for the match Puddlemere United vs. Chudley Cannons."

Next to Hermione Ron suddenly sat up straight and she noticed with a smile that Harry and Ginny looked rather eager as well.

"How did you get them?" Ron asked excitedly. "It's really hard to get tickets."

Luna only smiled softly. "My father knows the Cannon's trainer, he is a great fan of the _Quibbler_."

"Well that explains a lot," Harry whispered under his breath, but seemed as eager as Ron to get the tickets.

According to Luna's whishes they divided into three pairs, Lupin pairing up with Hagrid, Harry with Ginny and Ron with Hermione. Then Luna gave each group a piece of parchment and told them that she'd probably see them in about one or two hours. After two hours they should return regardless of how far they'd come.

Opening the parchment, Hermione found at its top a sentence which would have to be completed to tell them where to find the prize. It read "_You'll find the prize in the Hogwarts … guarded by a …_" Beneath it were several riddles which would finally give them the two words needed to complete the sentence.

"Let's see," Ron said eagerly, drawing Hermione away from the others so they wouldn't be overheard. "_How many dancing druids are there on Hogwarts' oldest painting? Take the number, multiply it by four and you have the number of steps you need to take from the entrance of the Hufflepuff common room to the right to find the next clue._" "Druids? Oldest painting?" he furrowed his brow and Hermione sighed exasperatedly. "You know, one day I'll really force you to read _Hogwarts, a History_. It's the large painting on the fifth floor, between the suit of black armor and the secret passageway behind the tapestry. But we'll have to be careful when we count them, the druids quarrel all the time and often some of them have walked out of the painting."

"Well, what are we waiting for," Ron said, "let's go!" The other two groups were rolling up their parchments as well and made to leave. It seemed that they had been given different clues, since Ginny and Harry headed out into the grounds, while Hagrid and Lupin made for the Great Hall. Ron and Hermione hurried towards the nearest staircase to get to the fifth floor.

When they arrived at the painting, they found nine druids dancing more or less enthusiastically, and learned on asking that three were missing. They followed similar clues for the next hour, rushing through the dimly lit corridors without meeting anyone since the students were already in their quarters. It felt like a rather frivolous pastime in times like these, but Hermione found it great fun. After months of worrying about the future the simple task of solving riddles and hurrying down the hallways to the next station was like a holiday, a step back into her childhood. Finally they had found the two missing words, and the sentence now read: _The prize can be found in the Hogwarts garden guarded by a snake._"

"Brilliant," Ron said exasperatedly, "are we now supposed to walk through the grounds and look for a snake which guards our prize? That'll take ages!"

"I don't think so," Hermione said, furrowing her brow. "It could also mean that we have to look for a garden in Hogwarts itself which is somehow guarded by a snake. Does this ring a bell?"

They thought in silence for a few minutes. Suddenly Ron's face lit up. "I think I've got it. There is a small and rather hidden courtyard at the end of a corridor in the east wing. The door to it has the picture of a snake above it. Fred and George showed it to me one day."

Hermione gave him an appreciative smile. "I've never been there, but I guess that's it. Perhaps it was the private garden of a Head of Slytherin, or even Salazar himself. Lead the way."

She didn't have to tell him twice, and after rushing through dimly lit corridors for a few minutes they arrived in front of a heavy wooden door which was below a stone image of a hissing snake. When they opened the door they found a small garden enclosed on all sides by high, windowless walls. A few trees and bushes stood on the soft lawn, and water plashed in a small fountain.

"This is lovely," Hermione remarked in surprise. "Strange that I never found it before."

"Yeah yeah," Ron said, eagerly scanning the garden. "Now come on, we've got to get the prize.

It wasn't hard to find since Luna or Neville had put up lights around the tallest tree to guide their way. Squinting up into the treetop, Hermione discerned something which looked like a large nest.

"I'll climb up," she told Ron. "Those branches there look a bit thin and I'm definitely lighter than you." She looked a bit worried. "I really wonder how Lupin is supposed to get up there."

Ron shrugged his shoulders. "It's an advantage for us, isn't it?" He looked up the tree and furrowed his brow. "I guess I should be a gentleman and do the climbing, but I think you're right. I wished we could use magic, then no one would have to climb at all."

"You know we can't," Hermione said while taking off the light jacket she had worn. "Don't worry, I was a great tree climber as a child. I just hope that the others haven't been here yet." She went towards the thick trunk. "Could you give me a leg-up?"

"Sure." Ron folded his hands so that Hermione could step on them and pushed her upwards. The tree had several conveniently placed branches and so it wasn't a hard climb. Only her hair, which Hermione had tied back into a ponytail, repeatedly caught at some twigs. After a few minutes Hermione reached the nest and was happy to find that Luna's prize was still there. "Wow," she said, looking down at a milky stone about as large as her fist which shimmered in different, pale colours.

"Is it still there? What is it?" Ron shouted eagerly.

"It's a mahō ishi."

"A what?"

Hermione sighed. "Really Ron, don't you remember anything from our schooldays? It's a very rare stone which is only found on Hokkaido, the north island of Japan." She looked ponderingly at the stone for a few seconds, then started to unbutton her blouse.

"Ahm, Hermione?" Ron asked confused, "why are you stripping?"

"When a mahō ishi is touched by a human it shatters. I have to wrap it into something." The cold night air was chilly on her exposed skin as she carefully draped her blouse around the stone. _Only Luna could come up with something like that_, Hermione thought amusedly as she was carefully climbing down the tree, holding her impromptu bag in her left hand while holding on to the tree with her right hand. Finally she handed the package to Ron and jumped down to the ground.

"We've made it," she said, grinning at Ron and carefully wrapping the stone out of her blouse and into her jacket. "The tickets are ours – or better yours and Alexandra's, you know my great love for Quidditch."

Ron's eyes lit up. "That's awfully nice of you. But you can keep the stone." He suddenly looked at Hermione with a slightly embarrassed expression on his face.

"Come on, Ron", she grinned while shaking out her hair and picking up her blouse again, "you've seen me in my bra before."

"Well, yes," he actually blushed a bit, "but, you know, that was different, we were together then."

Hermione just chuckled and looked down to button up her blouse. Suddenly the door to the little garden opened and a tall black figure entered, dimly lit by the light from the corridor. Hermione's head jerked up and her heart skipped a beat when she recognized Snape.

He stopped when he saw the lights around the tree and the two figures in front of it. His eyes grew wide as he took in the scene, Hermione frozen with her crumpled blouse still half open, little twigs and leaves in her disheveled hair.

Snape's eyes darted from her face to her blouse to Ron and back again. His face was very still. "I am sorry," he finally said with a touch of his usual sneer. "I didn't want to…disturb you." And he turned around and stormed out of the garden, his dark robes billowing, the door smashing shut after him.

"Well…," Ron said after a few seconds of shocked silence. "That was…kind of embarrassing." He shot Hermione a worried glance.

"You have no idea how." Hermione's thoughts were racing. _Damn_, she thought, mechanically finishing to button her blouse and trying not to let Ron see how affected she was. _What must he think now? Well I pretty well know what he must think! And if I was right about him being somewhat jealous of Ron the last time he was so mean to me, I'm probably in for a really hard time… And all this after he trusted me enough to tell me about Agnes and his despair at what he has to do… Oh damn!_

She winced and got another worried glance from Ron. "Don't worry, I'm alright," she said, giving him a false smile. "I'll try to explain it to him, and if he doesn't believe me it's none of his business anyway."

Ron looked at her doubtfully. "I'll keep my fingers crossed for you, but knowing Snape he'll only sneer at you. What a streak of bad luck." He hesitated. "If you like I could explain it to him."

Hermione shook her head forcefully. "Oh no, that would only make it worse." She shuddered at the thought. "You know," she said wryly, "actually it's kind of funny. Or at least it would be if this were some comedy."

Ron grinned tentatively. "Yeah. The shocked look on his face was priceless."

Hermione's mouth twitched. "Well, it can't be helped now – let's go and get our prize."

Ron's face lit up at the thought. "Yeah, and see the faces of the others when we get it."

They left the garden and hurried to Luna's rooms, Hermione cursing her bad luck and wondering how Snape would react. She had no idea what to say or do next time she met him, and she was pretty certain that whatever she'd do that meeting wouldn't be pleasant.

They were the first to come back to Luna and Neville, and it was another half hour until all the others were back again and Ron was able to savour his triumph. When they told them about Snape and the 'bra affair', as Ron called it, their reaction was a mixture of dread and amusement.

"You know, perhaps old Snape was so shocked because he's never seen a half-clad woman before," Ron snorted.

Harry, Ginny and Neville giggled but Lupin shook his head in mock-reproof. "I don't know, there are some women who find him strangely attractive."

Ron looked shocked. "That greasy git?" He shuddered. "I'll never understand woman."

Hermione looked away quickly. She was still worried about the whole thing, and her friends making fun of Snape hurt surprisingly much. "Well, what about something to eat?" She said with forced cheerfulness, catching a pensive glance from Lupin. The others however were distracted easily enough, and Luna called for some house-elves to bring the food. They spent the next hours in cheerful conversation, Hermione trying very hard not to let the others notice how downcast she was.

…

Hermione dreaded meeting Snape the next morning, but luckily it seemed as if he tried to avoid her as long as possible, and she neither saw him at breakfast nor at lunch. But when she went to the teachers' common room in the afternoon to get some papers for Flitwick, she was confronted with his dark figure gathering up some potions essays, probably to take them to his office.

Hermione stopped in the doorway. "Hello Severus," she said, glad that her voice didn't betray her nervousness. He gave her a rather burning look. "Hermione." There was a definite sneer in his voice, and she sighed internally. They were alone in the room and although she'd preferred to just walk out this was as good a time as ever to talk to him.

"Listen, Severus," she said haltingly after shutting the door behind her, "there's something I want to explain to you." She hesitated, her heart pounding nervously. "About what you saw yesterday."

He didn't look at her but had his eyes fixed on the papers on the table. "An explanation won't be necessary," he said in a flat voice. "The signs weren't so hard to interpret. And neither do you have to keep me informed about your…love life," his voice lingered uncomfortably on the last words, "nor am I at all interested in it."

Hermione felt irritated. "Then why are you acting like this?" she asked before she could stop herself.

His eyes shoot up, burning into hers. "Don't fool yourself that your behaviour in any way influences my own," he snarled fiercely. "I don't care what you…do…with Weasley," he nearly spat the name, "and I'm certainly not…"

Snape never finished the sentence. The door had opened and McGonagall stood in the door frame, looking with surprise at Hermione and the glowering Snape. "Hermione, Severus," she said, eyeing them curiously.

"I have to go," Snape said, fiercely gathered up his essays and stormed out of the room.

McGonagall looked after him with surprise and a furrowed brow before turning towards Hermione. "What was that?" she asked.

Hermione shrugged her shoulders, the anger subsiding and leaving only sadness. "It's a long story. I'll tell you one day."

McGonagall looked at her intently. "What about today? I'll have to teach now, but could you come to my rooms in two hours?"

"Sure," Hermione said, feeling rather unenthusiastic. She was not certain if she could face a heart-to-heart talk with McGonagall after this disastrous encounter with Snape.

…

When Hermione got to McGonagall's quarters two hours later, the elder woman was already waiting for her. Hermione sat down in a comfortable tartan chair and looked around the room which could only be described as tartanesque.

McGonagall put down a glass in front of her, and Hermione was surprised to find that it was filled with Whisky.

"I thought you could need that now," McGonagall said with a smile.

"I guess it won't do any harm," Hermione replied and took a little sip. The Whisky was excellent, and its mellow warmth immediately filled her throat and stomach.

Sitting down opposite of her, McGonagall drank some Whisky herself, all the time looking at Hermione intently. Her beady eyes were full of sympathy but Hermione started feeling uncomfortable nevertheless.

"What's the matter with you and Severus?" McGonagall finally said.

Hermione tried to hide her shock. Whatever she had expected, she hadn't thought that the elder woman would be so blunt.

"I, I don't know," she said, fervently hoping that she wouldn't blush, "what do you mean?"

McGonagall gave her an understanding smile. "I certainly don't want to pry into your personal life, but there is something going on between you, isn't it? Or at least with him. I haven't seen him as moody and erratic as this for years."

She looked at Hermione intently and took another sip of Whisky before continuing. "You certainly remember the day before you were kidnapped, when he suddenly got very angry indeed and spoke to nobody. When you left for London, probably because he'd vented his anger on you, he got even angrier. Just ask my poor Gryffindors, they told me they'd never seen him like that. Then we learned that you'd obviously been kidnapped and he suddenly became very still and very white and then rushed off to rescue you or whatever he intended to do." She paused, eyeing Hermione steadfastly, who felt her cheeks grow rather hot and didn't know where to look. "And then when you got back he haunted the hospital wing, but as soon as you were well again he neither looked at nor talked to you. Then his mood seemed to get better again for the last weeks, but after you two returned from Germany he once more got very moody. And since yesterday he's as irate and snarling as he ever was. Today he deducted ten housepoints each from three Gryffindors because he found they smiled too much when he met them in a corridor." The elder woman hesitated, looking at Hermione with eyes full of concern before she went on. "Hermione, I've known Severus since he was a child, I've seen the way he acts around you and the way he looks at you when he thinks no one notices. I think he's in love with you."

Hermione felt as if the world was turning upside down. "I… I don't know what to say," she croaked, staring at McGonagall, her mind reeling.

"Take a sip of Whisky," the elder woman said matter-of-factly, "it'll help."

Hermione nearly downed the whole glass, grateful for the distraction and the warmth of the alcohol.

"Listen, Hermione," McGonagal finally said softly, "I don't want to embarrass you. I'm just a bit worried about you, and especially about Severus. He is a complicated man, but a good one even if you have to dig rather deep to find that. And he is a man of strong passions, although he tries to control them most of the time. Whatever has happened has obvious affected him deeply."

Hermione drew a deep breath. "I don't really know what has happened," she said haltingly. "I… I don't know about his feelings, and neither do I really understand my own." She felt herself blushing violently again, but McGonagall's calm gaze gave her strength. "I… I really like him, but sometimes he's so hard to understand and I just don't know what his behaviour means or how to act around him." Hermione looked down on her hands which were holding the glass. "I respect him. I admire him for his intelligence and his work for the Order. And for the last few weeks I've worried…that I'm falling in love with him." She nearly whispered the last words. When she looked up again McGonagall's eyes were so full of sympathy that she felt tears building up inside her. Hermione gave the elder woman a shaky smile. "I've tried to fight it, I really have. But I just can't help it. I never made a pass at him, nor did he give me any real indication that he had feelings for me. But I thought we were something like friends. At least we worked well together. Everything was going well, I thought, until shortly before my kidnapping, when Ron showed up so surprisingly."

McGonagall nodded. "When Ron came to the dinner table that night Filius asked me if you and he were together again. I told him I didn't know, but Severus was sitting next to me and his mood seemed to grow darker every minute he saw you talking to Ron. And when he showed up at breakfast the next morning I fear Severus drew the wrong conclusions.

Hermione was looking at her wide-eyed. Now it really made sense. Snape had obviously suspected that she and Ron had spent the night together. And the memory he'd seen during their Occlumency training of her and Ron kissing hadn't helped, either.

"I worked with Severus in the laboratory after Ron left," Hermione said slowly. "And he was simply ghastly. We had a terribly row, and finally I left. I didn't know why he suddenly was so angry with me, but now it seems it was because of Ron."

McGonagall nodded, pouring Hermione more Whisky. "When Severus didn't show up for meals and you left for London I thought something like that had happened."

Hermione drew in her breath, things suddenly falling into place. "And yesterday he saw me with Ron again… Luna had arranged a paper chase for her birthday, and one of the tasks Ron and I had to accomplish was to get a mahō ishi out of a tree. When I climbed up I had to wrap it into something, and the only thing I had was my blouse, so I took it off. And when I put it on again as soon as I was back on the ground, Severus suddenly appeared. And he saw me and Ron and the half-open blouse and obviously drew the wrong conclusions.

McGonagall couldn't quite hide a smile. "And who can blame him, really. What a streak of bad luck." She mused for a few moments. "So you tried to explain it to him when I happened upon you in the common room?"

Hermione nodded and gave her a wry smile. "I tried, but you saw what success I had." She took another sip of Whisky. "So he's behaving like this because he thinks Ron is my boyfriend?"

But the elder woman shook her head slowly. "I don't think it is only Ron."

Hermione furrowed her brow. "I can't think of any other reason, and trust me, I've thought about it thoroughly."

McGonagal's mouth twitched in a slightly sad smile. "I'm afraid it is more complicated than only jealousy – even if I'd bet that to experience that feeling is frightening enough for Severus. I suspect that until Ron's surprise visit some weeks ago Severus hadn't really admitted to himself that he had any deeper feelings for you. It hadn't been necessary because you had a comfortable professional relationship anyway. I guess in a way he felt save and happy the way it was. But then suddenly someone showed up who not only seemed to threaten this relationship, but who also made him painfully aware that there were other, more intimate possibilities. I think Severus was surprised by the strength of the feelings he suddenly had to face, and that he got afraid. You know that he's a man who needs to be in control all the time, and he suddenly realized that he'd let you get too close. So I guess his aggression against you was and is not only an expression of jealousy, but also his way of keeping you at a save distance. Self-preservation in his eyes. And he's probably also afraid that if you ever should get closer your connection to him might place you in danger." The elder woman took a long sip of Whisky, looking pensively at Hermione. "But then you were kidnapped, and I guess that threw him into even more emotional turmoil." She sighed. "And when he had successfully suppressed that, and your relationship had finally gone back to where it had been before, Ron showed up again, and all started anew. I'm so sorry for you. I know it's not an easy situation."

Hermione gave her an anguished smile. "No, it isn't. And to be honest I don't have any idea what to do now."

"Neither do I, I'm sorry," McGonagall said, giving Hermione a sympathetic look. "I guess I'd advice you to wait and see how Severus comes to terms with whatever he's feeling. I don't have to tell you that now certainly isn't the best time for starting a relationship, even if you and he wanted to, but I'd be glad if he found some kind of peace. He's suffered enough and he'll need all the strength and support he can get before the end comes." She was looking rather serious now.

Hermione nodded slowly. "I'll try to be a good friend to him – at least as long as he's not yelling at me." She grimaced and emptied her glass. "Thanks for talking to me. It helped me see things a bit clearer." Suddenly a thought hit her. "Do the other teachers know?"

McGonagall rolled her eyes. "Albus knows, of course. He's rather worried about Severus, to be honest. And I'm not sure about Lupin. But the rest are all so blind when it comes to romantic entanglements that you could kiss Severus in the Great Hall and they still wouldn't get it. No, you're safe."

Hermione felt rather relieved. Discussing her love life with McGonagall was strange enough. Suddenly a thought crossed her mind. "Listen, if a chance presents itself, could you perhaps casually drop the information that Ron has a new girlfriend?"

McGonagall gave her a mischievous smile. "Has he indeed? Don't worry, I'll make sure that it's all over the teachers' body by tomorrow. And I might also relate the rather amusing story of how you got the mahō ishi out of the tree."

**…**

When Hermione arrived at the dinner table that night a bit later then the other teachers, she soon became aware that they shot her odd glances. Confused she checked her robes for spots or anything else which could explain the strange looks, but then she caught McGonagall's gaze and saw the elder woman grinning and winking at her. Realization dawned on Hermione.

Sitting down at the table, she shot a glance in Snape's direction. In contrast to the other teachers he looked practically mirthful and ate with more enthusiasm than she'd seen him do for some time.

"How are you?" Hermione was suddenly addressed by Luna's slightly dreamy voice. "You know everyone is a bit worried about you because Ron has a new girlfriend."

In the ensuing silence you could have heard a pin drop. Most of the teachers stared at Luna in surprised shock.

Hermione tried very hard to suppress her laughter. _Trust Luna for speaking out loud what everyone is thinking_, she thought amused. "Thanks for your concern," she replied, keeping her eyes focused at Luna but aware that all the table was listening intently. "But you don't have to worry, I'm quite happy for Ron. You remember when he showed up unexpectedly a few weeks ago and stayed overnight in Neville's room? He told me then. As you know we've only been good friends for some years now, and I'm sure it'll stay that way."

Lupin, who had been looking at her anxiously, smiled with relief. "I'm glad you're taking it like that," he said. "To be honest, Ron is a great guy, but I've always been a bit surprised that you two got together."

Hermione noticed several teachers nodding. A swift glance showed her that Snape was looking at his plate rather intently, but had stopped eating, his fork raised half up to his mouth.

"I'm not saying that I thought you weren't a great couple," Lupin went on hurriedly, "but you are just so different."

Hermione gave him a crooked smile. "Opposites attract, I guess."

"What Remus means is that we are happy that you no longer squander your considerable intelligence on someone who could never appreciate it," Snape remarked sarcastically.

Lupin furrowed his brow. "That's not what I meant, Severus. Ron may not be the most intellectual of persons, but he has many merits, and he certainly appreciates Hermione's intelligence."

Snape snorted. "Yes, but only because it saved his and Potter's life more than once." He turned towards Hermione. "I'm certain there are men more suitable for you than Mr Weasley."

Hermione raised an eyebrow and smiled ironically. "Tell me if you find one." Their eyes locked for a moment until Hermione looked away. "Well I'm glad you're so much concerned about my love life. Now, are there any other news?" she said, catching a look of Lupin who was regarding Snape rather thoughtfully.

* * *

_All right, I know this was a bit contrived, but I just had to have this scene__ in the garden ;-). I wanted to have something a bit lighter after the last chapter, and I also wanted to finally clear up the whole jealousy-business._

"_Mahō ishi" is meant to mean something like "magical stone__" or "stone of magic" in Japanese, but I'm pretty sure it's not correct, so if anyone of you has an idea how to express this concept correctly just tell me._

_Regarding the comment made by "Requiem for a Sunburst": to be honest I have no idea if you can apparate out of the country or not, but I reckoned that it should be possible as long as the overall distance isn't too long. I don't remember if J.K.R. says anything __about it, but if she does please tell me._

_On a similar subject (this will be important __later ;-)): Is it possible to floo out of Hogwarts? I can't really remember if it's ever mentioned (shame on me – I really should stop reading fanfiction and start reading the books again ;-)). I know that you can use the Floo network at Hogwarts as a means for communication, but can you use it for transport as well (and if yes is it possible to use it from every fireplace?)? I mean if you could what would stop the Death Eaters from getting into Hogwarts?_


	22. For a few moments

_Thanks a lot for your reviews and the answers to my questions__. As always: Enjoy!_

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**For a few moments**

June arrived and with it the tense atmosphere of approaching exams. This year however the teachers were glad for it since it diverted the students' thoughts from what the _Daily Prophet_ called the "Muggle-born question". There had been more calls for stricter laws to police anyone in closer contact with muggles, and also a few widely published arrests among muggle-borns who allegedly had planned new attacks against wizarding society. Moreover, after Agnes' murder the _Prophet _had reported further attacks by Death Eaters, but it was still unclear if Voldemort was in any way connected to the "muggle terrorists".

One afternoon Hermione was informed by Dumbledore that Padma had woken up from her coma. Unfortunately her memory was still rather faulty and she had no remembrance whatsoever of the day of the accident, but the doctors were tentatively optimistic that with time she'd regain most of her memory. Hermione visited her the next day, hoping that perhaps the sight of her might trigger something. But when she came into the room Padma looked at her with a questioning look in her eyes, furrowed her brow and then shot a glance to her mother who was sitting at her bed.

"I know you, don't I?" she said haltingly to Hermione, her voice raspy after the long time in which it hadn't been used.

Hermione's hopes sank. Giving an encouraging smile to Padma, she took a chair and sat down beside her. "Yes, we went to school together, and to university. I'm Hermione Granger."

Padma looked at her intently. "Hermione… I'm sorry. I know that I know you somehow, but it's like a blur." She grimmaced, her annoyance clearly visible. "I just hope it comes back eventually. It really is infuriating."

Her mother patted her arm in a soothing gesture. "Sh, Padma, you know what the doctors said. It'll take time, and you've only just woken up." She looked at Hermione. "But the doctors also said it might help if we remind her of the past, so I'm grateful you've come. Perhaps you could tell her a bit about your schooldays and about university."

"Sure," Hermione said, and for the next half hour she tried to trigger Padma's memories by telling her about their time together at Hogwarts and especially at St Andrews where they had been much closer friends. A few times Padma remembered or thought she remembered some things, and she and Hermione were heartened by that tiny progress. Finally Hermione carefully asked if Padma remembered anything about the day of the accident.

Her friend only shook her head in frustration. "I can't recall the day at all. Well, it probably is for the best, you know that other guy died and I'm not sure I want to remember that." She looked very serious now. "Everyone tells me I was really lucky, and if not remembering that day is the price for surviving then I'm willing to pay it."

Hermione could hardly disagree with that. Changing the topic, she asked "How long do you have to stay in hospital?"

Padma shrugged her shoulders. "Apart from my memory I'm fine. They want to run a few tests, but I should be able to leave in a few days. And I'm not sorry," she shot a glance at the bed nearby in which an elderly witch was sleeping. "She's snoring something dreadful," Padma whispered, "and I'm pretty sure she took the chocolate my mother left for me yesterday. Anyway, I'm looking forward to going home. Perhaps that'll help me remember things. And the Ministry has given me leave until I feel up to working again, so that's all right."

"If you need any help, just send me an owl," Hermione said, wondering if she should tell Padma about her suspicions. She didn't want to worry her, but neither did she want to risk another "accident". Finally she decided to ask Dumbledore first. She stayed for another thirty minutes and then returned to Hogwarts.

The headmaster was glad to hear that Padma was well and that there was at least a chance that she would remember what had happened. But he still thought it better not to tell her about their suspicion. He had seen to it that someone watched over her, and as yet they had no proof that the accident had really been an attempted murder.

**…**

"Mistress? Mistress, wake up, please."

"Hmp?" Reluctantly opening her eyes and groping for her wand to turn on the light, Hermione was not really happy to find herself being shaken out of her dreams by a house-elf. "W'sit?," she mumbled sleepily. "How often have I told you not to call me Mistress?" It took her a few seconds to fully wake up, but when she looked at her watch and saw that it was a quarter to three, she suddenly felt wide awake.

"What's the matter" she asked the house-elf who was standing beside her bed worriedly.

"I don't know, Mistress. Professor Dumbledore sent me to tell you you should come to his office immediately."

"Thanks, I'll be there at once."

The house-elf disappeared and Hermione climbed out of her bed, grabbed some trousers and a shirt, struggled into her shoes, made sure that she had her wand and hurried out of her rooms. Something exceptional must have happened for Dumbledore to wake her at a time like this. Hermione's mind was full of worries, and the longer she thought about it, the faster her heart was pounding. _Please_, she thought fearfully as she was hurrying through the dark corridors, finally breaking into a run, _please let there be no more deaths._ _Please not my parents, or Ron or Harry, please._

When she got up the spiral staircase she was panting. "What has happened?" she asked breathlessly before the door to Dumbledore's office had fully opened. She found him sitting at his desk, his face rather worried. "Is everyone alright?" she enquired, her voice slightly shaking."

Dumbledore looked serious but gave her an encouraging smile. "Yes, dear, everyone is fine. Please, sit down."

Hermione felt relief wash over her. Whatever had happened, at least no one had died yet. Only now did she notice Snape who was sitting in a corner, an odd look flitting across his face as he saw her. He was very pale and his dark eyes glittered with an intensity Hermione had never seen. "Hello Severus," she said, but he only gave her a short nod and then turned his gaze away, out into the night.

Hermione sat down, still feeling rather shakily, and became aware of her hair which was billowing in an untidy cloud around her head. She tried to straighten it with her hands, but soon gave up and let it be. Dumbledore held out a cup of tea to her and she gratefully accepted it.

"Hermione," Dumbledore began when she'd taken a few sips, "I'm sorry I had to wake and worry you like that. It was necessary, however. As I told you, nothing terrible has happened yet, but I'm afraid I have bad news for you nevertheless."

He looked at her with so much sympathy in his eyes that Hermione got rather frightened.

"Tonight Voldemort ordered Severus to kill your parents."

Hermione felt as if the world around her had dropped away. She wanted to cry out, but the only thing that came out of her mouth was a strangled and voiceless sob. Only Dumbledore's bright blue eyes, so full of sympathy, kept her in the here and now. Suddenly she became aware of the tea cup she was grabbing so tightly her hand hurt.

"They're all right yet?" her voice sounded like that of a stranger and when Hermione put down the tea cup she noticed that her hand was shaking.

"Yes," Dumbledore replied. "Voldemort explicitly ordered Severus to kill them in the morning."

_How strange_, a part of Hermione's brain not completely numbed commented. _Why kill them in broad daylight?_

Dumbledore leaned over the table and took her hands. They were very cold and suddenly Hermione started shivering. "Of course we won't let that happen," he said in a soothing voice. "To guarantee their safety for the future, as well as not to jeopardize Severus' position, it will however be necessary to feign their death."

Hermione nodded slowly, still holding onto Dumbledore's sympathetic gaze. She had always feared that she was endangering her parents, and over the years had thought of all kinds of more or less desperate measures to ensure their safety. Still, it was different when it suddenly became reality.

"But why now?" she asked, her voice shaky. "Why not right after I escaped his kidnappers? I don't understand it."

Dumbledore sighed. "We don't know why he waited so long, either. But one of his objectives in this is certainly to test Severus' loyalty."

Hermione shot a glance in Snape's direction but found that he was still looking out into the night. She turned back to Dumbledore again, trying to collect herself. "What is your plan?" she asked, her voice sounding surprisingly calm.

"Severus is supposed to kill them tomorrow together with two other Death Eaters. I've talked to Moody who at the moment heads the guard we've given to your parents after you were kidnapped, and he will see to it that the two Death Eaters are kept up outside as long as possible and only Severus enters the house at first. At this time your parents will have left already. I've prepared two decoys which will pose as their corpses, so when the other two Death Eaters finally enter they hopefully won't realize what has happened." He paused, looking at Hermione intently. "We'll send your parents to Canada. I've already informed them and, knowing that there is no alternative, they have accepted my proposal. I'm afraid it will be necessary for their and our safety to Obliviate them. They will be given new identities and won't know who they were or that they had a daughter."

Hermione felt tears filling her eyes, but nodded. _Don't be silly_, she thought, blinking them back furiously, _you always knew that something like that could happen. And at least they'll be alive and away from danger_. But this didn't help to sooth the pain she felt and the reproaches she made herself. _It's only because of me that they are in danger, because of me..._

"Can I see them before they leave?" she finally asked, her voice thick with emotion.

Dumbledore nodded. "That's the reason I had you woken up. I've prepared a Portkey and we'll go immediately." He got up and took an inkstand from his desk. "Severus," he said, "I'll see you before you leave."

Hermione had nearly forgotten Snape's presence. He still hadn't said anything to her, but the sharpness of his facial features showed the tension he was under. Hermione got up as well and stepped to Dumbledore who held out the inkstand to her. She felt slightly benumbed, as if she had a fever or as if this was all just a bad dream.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," Snape suddenly said in a flat voice, only now meeting her eyes.

"So am I," she replied, turned around and touched the inkstand, holding his gaze while Dumbledore activated the Portkey.

**...**

Her parents were waiting for her when they materialised in the living room. All the curtains had been drawn so that no one from outside could detect their secret visit. Hermione was very glad that Dumbledore had already informed them. They were as much in shock as she was, and obviously not keen on moving out of the country and having their brains tempered with, but seemed resigned to their fate.

Her mother started crying when she saw Hermione and her father's face twitched suspiciously as well as he drew her into a tight embrace. Dumbledore left the room to give them some privacy, and as soon as the door closed behind him and Hermione was alone with her parents the tears she had kept back until now started rolling down her cheeks.

"I'm so sorry," she sobbed, "so sorry. It's all my fault. If I hadn't been caught up in this war, if I had been a normal child and not gone to Hogwarts, nothing of this would have happened and you could just live your lives."

But her mother shook her head and gave her a rather tearful smile. "Nonsense, Hermione. You know that's not true. Things are the way they are, and if anyone is to blame it's this mad dictator of yours. He has to be defeated, and if for this it's necessary that we disappear, so we will."

Her father nodded, softly stroking her wild hair the way he always had when she'd been ill as a child. "We're very proud for who you are – the cleverest witch in decades, they tell us – and we wouldn't want you any other way."

Hermione couldn't reply to this, tears choking her throat, and she only nodded and hugged her parents very hard.

After a while they all calmed down a little and her parents even made some jokes about always having wanted to go to Canada. When Dumbledore knocked on the door and entered half an hour later, Hermione knew that now was the time to say good bye.

"Promise you'll be careful," her mother said in a wobbly voice.

"I promise I'll try to be careful."

"And you'll come and get us as soon as this is over?"

"Yes, I'll get you as soon as possible." Hermione's face was wet with tears, but her voice had an edge of determination in it. This was only one more reason to fight Voldemort as hard as possible. "I'll think of you every day – I love you." And she touched the inkstand and Dumbledore took them back to Hogwarts.

When she emerged in the headmaster's office again, he told her to sit down and put a cup of hot tea and a large, rather pink handkerchief in front of her. Snape had left and the dimly lit office was only filled with the real or faked snores of former headmasters and headmistresses.

Hermione dried her tears and took a few sips of tea. "Thank you," she finally said after a certain calm had come over her. She still felt numb and now also very exhausted, but at the same time there was a cold determination and restlessness in her, the great need to do something and bring this long war to an end.

Finally a thought that had been nagging at the back of her mind for some time came to the fore. "What do we do about Severus? I mean if it looks like he killed my parents…?"

Dumbledore sighed. "I'm afraid there are still a few things I have to tell you before you can get back to bed. What I haven't told you before is that the murder of your parents isn't the only thing Voldemort asked of Severus."

Hermione looked up at him startled, her apprehension growing.

"Severus' days as a teacher in Hogwarts are finally over," Dumbledore went on, looking very grave. "We don't know if Voldemort wants to make the final test of Severus' loyalty, or if he thinks he doesn't need him as a spy anymore, or if his interest in Micaelus's book is greater than other considerations. Be it as it may, he has also ordered Severus to steal the book and thereby to officially declare his allegiance to him."

"But what about the book?" Hermione asked, shocked by this new revelation. "You won't give him the original, will you?"

"Of course not." Dumbledore looked rather smug. "I made a copy which will show Voldemort that what Micaelus is writing about has nothing to do with him. I hope that'll rid us of his attention."

Hermione's mind was reeling. "This test of Severus' loyalty – That's why Voldemort wants him to kill my parents in broad daylight, isn't it? – And perhaps in a way that will make clear that it was him? Perhaps without the Death Eater mask?" Dumbledore nodded, his face very grave, and she felt a lump in her throat and a new coldness suffusing her whole body. "So everyone knows it was him, and he'll finally be back as Voldemort's man for everyone to see." Snape would have to leave them, to go over to Voldemort for good, and everyone would think he had been evil from the beginning, nothing more than a very cunning traitor. _How they all will hate him_, she thought, thinking of Harry and Ron, _and how betrayed they'll feel. All the people who have ever stood up for him, who were his colleagues, who had grown to trust and esteem him_. _The poor, poor man._

When Hermione came out of her reveries she found Dumbledore scrutinizing her intently. "Poor Severus," she said with a wobbly smile. "They will all hate him." _And probably try to kill him when they get the chance._

Dumbledore's face was full of pity. "Yes," he said softly, "Severus' is a harsh duty. But he always knew that this could happen one day, and he's brave enough not to flinch from it. For his own security unfortunately no one apart from you, me and Moody must know that he is still working for us."

Hermione wanted to protest, but knew that this was necessary.

"I'm sorry," Dumbledore went on, "but that also means that you'll have to deceive your friends with regard to your parents' murder and Severus' role in it." Again his eyes were full of sympathy. "I know this will be terrible for you. But it is necessary."

Hermione slowly nodded her consent, feeling slightly ill. She didn't want to deceive her friends, the people who would be trying to help her, but there was no other way.

"When will Severus leave?" She finally asked.

There was a tiny sparkle in the headmaster's eye. "At sunrise." He reached out and squeezed her hand encouragingly. "I know this is very hard for you, but I also know that you will be able to handle it. And it will be over soon."

Hermione gave him a rather wobbly smile and said "I hope so," got up and left the office. When the spiralling staircase had brought her down to the corridor she set out for Snape's quarters.

**...**

A few minutes later she found herself standing in front of his door. Like so many months before, when she had first confronted him in his quarters and learned of his love for Sarah McIvor, she was again hesitating to knock. But now it wasn't because she dreaded his reaction, but because she knew that this would be their good bye for a long time, perhaps forever, and she didn't know what to say and do.

_Something happens, and suddenly everything is different and there's so little time left for the things we always postpone_, she thought. _And we had such high hopes, things were going along well with Micaelus's book, and now this. I just wished we had had more time..._

Again, as months ago, she thought that she could just leave, but knew that she wouldn't. And so she raised her hand and knocked on his door. Other than last time, now she got a muffled "Come in" immediately. Opening the heavy wooden door, she stepped into the room. In spite of her declaration that she'd come and look after the orchid she'd given him for Christmas, she'd never done it. Actually this was the first time since last summer that she'd come to his quarters, a proof of how much Snape still shielded his private life, even if they were something like friends now. As at the last time the room was rather dark, only lit by a few candles. But the shelves were empty now, and close to the door stood two large trunks. Hermione saw her orchid on a small table in a corner, its few remaining blossoms lighting up the darkness.

Snape was standing at one of the windows and had obviously looked outside into the night.

"How are your parents?" he asked when she slowly walked towards him.

"They are alive," she said flatly. When she arrived at the window she saw that his face was as white and drawn as when she had last seen him, and there was a look of tension and apprehension in it. "But I'm grateful for that, and I wanted to thank you."

"For what?" He snorted. "You didn't really think I'd kill them?" Something like pain flickered across his face for a moment and Hermione quickly shook her head.

"No, I never thought that." She paused, looking at his weary face, the deep lines and new shadows, and felt nothing but pain and sadness. "I also wanted to say good bye," she said at last, giving him a crooked smile. "I see you've packed?"

"Yes, I'm leaving soon." He gestures towards the orchid. "Would you take care of it? I won't need it where I'm going."

"Voldemort is not keen on flowers, I guess?" Hermione said at a feeble attempt at humour.

"No," he replied, a small smile tucking at his mouth, "he is not."

Silence ensued, Snape looking at her with an unreadable expression in his dark eyes. Hermione's mind was filled with a host of conflicting emotions and thoughts she didn't know how to express. "I'm so sorry," she finally said.

Snape raised an eyebrow in surprise. "You are sorry? What fore?"

Hermione made a sweeping gesture. "I don't know. You, the situation, everything." She gulped and felt tears building up again. "You shouldn't have to do this. I shouldn't have to lie to my friends. My parents shouldn't have to forget I ever existed and move to a foreign country." She looked away from him, out into the night, not wanting him to see how overcome she was by emotions. "Sometimes I wish I were a muggle, that I had been born without magic and would lead a normal life. Then my parents would never have been in danger."

She felt him step to her side, like her looking out of the window. "You shouldn't say that," he said, his voice strangely hoarse. "Without you probably neither Potter nor Weasley would still be alive. You… you are very important to many people, and for this fight…" His voice trailed off and Hermione turned towards him again, trying to give him a smile.

"You are right," she said ruefully, "I shouldn't moan and drown in self-pity. Compared to you I'm lucky." She paused. "They'll hate you," she said softly.

"Yes, they will. Potter and Weasley will doubtlessly tell you they told you so," Snape said with a trace of his customary snarl. But his eyes were sad, his face unguarded in a way Hermione had hardly ever seen. "But don't worry, I've always known that this day would come. And in a way I'm glad it's here now. The end of the war is drawing near, and however it will end I'm relieved the waiting is over."

"So you can finally atone for what you have done?" Hermione asked quietly.

He was silent for a few moments. "Yes, although that's impossible," he finally said. There was a shadow over his face now, his features very hard and tense.

Hermione sighed. "You'll never think you've done enough, will you?"

Snape gave a short, bitter laugh. "I'll never be able to undo what I did. But when my actions help to defeat the Dark Lord perhaps I'll be able to live with the past."

They were both silent for a few minutes, looking out into the night together. "Just don't let yourself get killed," Hermione suddenly said. "Not by Voldemort and not by my friends."

He inclined his head a little. "I'll try not to. And the same goes for you. I don't want to have to do what I promised you at Stella's wedding."

"Then I'll try not to let them catch me."

Snape looked at her intently, his emotions for once visible on his face. Pain, determination and something like hope, and then a strange softness that transformed his sharp features and took Hermione's breath away.

"I'd hoped you'd come," he said quietly.

The air around them felt very odd and all of a sudden Hermione found it hard to breathe. "I had to say good bye," she finally said, her eyes fixed by his strange gaze. Suddenly and as if unconsciously he raised his right hand and touched her hair very lightly where it fell onto her shoulders. He pulled back immediately, as if realizing what he had done, and looked away.

Hermione's mind was reeling. "The sun is rising," she said, gazing out of the window where the darkness was fading into dark blue at the horizon.

Snape turned towards the window and they stood side by side in silence for several minutes, watching as the sky got slowly brighter. On an impulse Hermione stepped closer to him, took his left hand and leaned into him a little, resting her head on his shoulder. He stiffened at first, but then relaxed and held her hand lightly. And for a few moments everything was alright. The pain in Hermione's chest and the chaos in her mind were quiet, and she felt peace and happiness.

"I have to go," Snape finally said when the first sunbeams lit up the sky. Leaning back from him again, but still holding his hand, Hermione looked into his face. The mask he had worn all the years was gone, and there was only a trace of regret and bewilderment left. "You are an extraordinary woman, Hermione Granger," he said softly and hesitantly. "I would never have thought that... I am not adept in these things…" and he made a sweeping gesture, obviously at a loss how to continue.

"Shh," she said, laying her hand softly over his mouth. She didn't want to ruin this by talk and consideration and reason. "We'll talk when all is over."

He nodded slowly, his hand rising again to softly brush a stray lock of hair out of her face. Suddenly she took a step forward and kissed him, a light and swift kiss which hardly gave him time to respond. "I'll see you soon," she said breathlessly, turned and hurried out of the room.


	23. Secrets and lies

**Secrets and Lies**

Hermione sat on her bed and stared into the sunrise while absentmindedly stroking Crookshanks. Her eyes were tearless. She had cried enough that night. And in spite of all the pain which sometimes threatened to overwhelm her there was also unbelievable happiness which every now and then brought a small smile to her face.

She replayed her last meeting with Snape through again and again, trying to remember every single detail. Whatever it meant in the end, it had been good and perfect. The rest would have to wait until the war was over. She held on to the memory, not wanting to think of what else had happened that night and what would happen soon, dreading the moment when the charade would have to begin.

Chrookshanks who seemed to sense her emotional turmoil nudged her with his head repeatedly, looking up at her with what Hermione would have called a worried expression in everything else than a squashed cat-face. "I'm all right," she said, burying her face in his soft fur. "No, you know that's not true. But I'll be all right, eventually. Everything will be." _I just hope that's true_.

Finally it was time for breakfast and Hermione took a quick shower, changed into her customary robes and tried not to look as exhausted and sad as she was feeling. Lupin shot her a questioning look at breakfast, but she told him that she hadn't slept well and he was satisfied.

After breakfast she helped Flitwick with a Charms lesson, all the time thinking of what was happening right now, what Snape was doing, and how they would come soon to tell her that her parents were dead. After about half an hour the door suddenly opened and McGonagall came in, looking deathly pale. Hermione, who was so tense she was nearly shivering, knew that now the charade would begin.

"Filius, I'm sorry, but I have to talk to Hermione," the elder woman said in a halting voice which made Flitwick furrow his brow in apprehension.

"Certainly, Minerva," he turned towards Hermione. "I'll see you later."

Hermione left the room, trying to look a bit bewildered but not too apprehensive. "Has something happened?"

"Yes dear," McGonagall said, her voice catching. Tears sparkled in her eyes and Hermione felt very ill. "I… I am so sorry. We just learned that your parents were killed by Death Eaters this morning." She gulped, not longer able to hold back the tears. "And it was Severus who killed them," she nearly whispered.

Hermione stood frozen, staring at McGonagall. She felt the elder woman's anguish like a hot wave and wanted desperately to tell her that she needn't worry, that everything was alright. Tears welled up inside her, and she whispered "I don't understand."

McGonagall drew her into an embrace and held her very tightly. "Neither do I," she said, shaking her head. "How could he do it?" she whispered, her voice full of bewilderment. "I trusted him, I always defended him. I even liked him. And how could he do it to you? I thought he had feelings for you… How silly we all have been." She gave a rough, tearful laughter. "Even Albus, who always insisted that Severus was trustworthy…"

They stood in the empty corridor for several minutes, McGonagall holding her and murmuring words of comfort. Hermione was glad that she didn't have to say anything. Finally the elder woman pulled back. "I'll take you to Albus," she said softly. "He will tell you what happened." Hermione only nodded, feeling more exhausted than ever in her life.

When they arrived at Dumbledore's office he was waiting there with Moody, both of them wearing appropriately affected expressions. Suddenly anger welled up inside Hermione, anger at his whole charade and what it did to friends like McGonagall who truly grieved for her loss and ached because of her own conflicting emotions for Snape. It must have shown in her eyes, because Moody shot her a warning glance.

"Please sit down," Dumbledore said softly, gesturing to the familiar chair and handing her a cup of tea. It all felt like an eerie repetition of the night before, only that now she knew what was coming.

"Hermione, I am very sorry about your parents' death." Dumbledore's voice sounded broken. "I would never have thought that Severus would betray us. It seems I'm a silly old man after all."

_What an actor he is_, a part of Hermione's mind thought detachedly and a bit disdainfully. "How did it happen?" she asked in a strained voice. Now it was Moddy's turn to enter the charade, and he did it nearly as convincingly as Dumbledore.

"I was on duty with two Aurors guarding your parents' house," he said. "About an hour ago suddenly Snape turned up and started to chat with us, telling us that he had a message for your parents. And then he just stunned one of my men and hurried into the house before we even realized what was going on. Suddenly two Death Eaters appeared and attacked us. We could keep them at bay, but the fight led us into the house and there we found Snape standing over your parents' corpses. When the Death Eaters saw them, they and Snape turned tails, ran out of the house and disapparated." He gave Hermione a penetrating glance with his magical eye. "I'm sorry," he finally said in a low voice. "We failed you."

"No," she shook her head slowly. "No one could have suspected that Severus would betray us." She stared into a corner of the room, not wanting to meet their eyes, clutching her teacup so hard it hurt. "Can I… can I see them?" she finally asked quietly.

"Of course," Dumbledore said, and as in the night before he got up and held out the Portkey to her.

Her house was a battlefield, furniture turned over or shattered in the fight, pictures fallen from the walls. Seeing it like this brought new tears to Hermione's eyes, and McGonagall, who had come with them them, took her hand. The corpses lay in a corner of the living room behind the large sofa, as if her parents had tried to hide behind it. They looked so realistic Hermione's breath caught in her throat and for a second she thought that something had gone terribly wrong, that these were really her parents. But then she felt Dumbledore taking her other hand and pressing it encouragingly. Hermione knelt down beside the corpses, looked at the wounds where the Killing Curse had supposedly hit them and stared into their bewildered and frightened faces. At least someone had closed their eyes. She softly stroked their cold faces and got up, at a loss what to do next. McGonagall led her out of her devastated home into the garden. "We have Obliviated the neighbours," Dumbledore said, "and will inform the muggle authorities later on."

Hermione only nodded. Suddenly there was the soft sound of someone apparating, and when she turned around she saw Harry and Ron walking towards her, shock and pain in their faces.

"Hermione," Ron said chokingly, drawing her into an embrace almost at the same time as Harry. "We are so sorry," he murmured into her ear.

"I still can't believe it," Harry said roughly. "And Snape!" His voice was more bewildered than angry, and for some moments Hermione just stood there, grateful for her friends' comfort. But then reality returned and with it the knowledge that she'd have to lie to them and that they'd hate Snape. She felt a great lump in her throat as she disentangled herself from her friends and looked at them.

"Thank you," she said. "I'm glad you are here. I... I would never have thought that he'd do that…"

The characteristic sound of someone apparating made her turn around. It was Lupin, a drawn expression on his face, his eyes wide with shock. "Hermione," he only said, drawing her into a tight embrace. "I'm so sorry," he murmured, hesitantly stroking her hair with a softness that astonished her and made tears come into her eyes. "How could we be so deceived," he said, his voice betraying how hard he found it to believe what had happened. "How could Severus do that? We trusted him. I… I really believed him. I even had started to like him… And all the time…" His voice became a whisper. "I even thought he…liked you…" He broke off and slightly shook his head, looking at Hermione with eyes which were full of sadness and bewilderment.

Ron's face got red with fury. "I knew he was an evil bastard to the core. I promise he'll pay for it. He won't get away with it."

Harry nodded jerkingly. "No, he won't," he said in a very cold voice.

But Hermione shook her head. "You have to promise me that you won't hurt him," she said. Ron gasped in outrage, and Hermione quickly added "at least not badly. I want to deal with him myself." Her voice sounded very cold now, and whatever had been in her eyes it obviously convinced her friends that they should leave Snape's punishment to her.

They returned to Hogwarts soon after and Hermione retired to her rooms, longing for some solitude. She hurt for her parents and for Snape and felt ill and exhausted because she had to deceive her friends.

In the afternoon Dumbledore called for a meeting in his office. "You all know what has happened," he said, looking at their drawn faces. He himself looked old and tired. "It turns out that I was deceived in Severus, and Hermione had to pay dearly for it." Everyone turned towards her, pity in their eyes, and Hermione looked down on her hands, not able to meet their gazes.

"But all is not lost," Dumbledore went on. "Severus won't be able to betray our plan to Voldemort."

They all looked at him in surprise, Hermione wondering what he was playing at.

"What do you mean, Albus?" McGonagall asked, furrowing her brow. "He had ample time to tell Voldemort about Micaelus's book, now and in the past."

Dumbledore suddenly smiled. "You see, that's were you're wrong." He paused, obviously enjoying the suspense. "The first time we talked about Micaelus's book and what its content might mean for us, I placed a charm on all of us, a charm which makes it impossible for us to tell anyone outside the Order about it."

The teachers looked relieved as well as a bit uncomfortable. Hermione was wondering if Dumbledore told them the truth, or if it was just a ploy to ensure them that their plan wouldn't be betrayed.

"Even if Voldemort tries to get the information by Legilimency he won't be successful," Dumbledore went on. "Unfortunately it works only if someone wants to betray us. If one of us should be caught by Voldemort, the charm should still give some protection, but unless the person is an excellent Occlumens eventually Voldemort would be able to access the information." He paused. "This also means that we can't be sure if Severus was responsible for Hermione's kidnapping, or if there is another traitor."

They looked at each other rather worriedly. Hermione could not help admiring how Dumbledore had made sure that their minds were busy thinking about the other traitor, thereby diverting them from worrying too much about Snape. Since Dumbledore hadn't mentioned that Voldemort had also asked Snape to steal Micaelus's book they seemed to be sure that even with Snape's defection their plan was still save. The meeting ended soon after, and Hermione went to her quarters again, her heart heavy and her head hurting.

Harry, Ron, Luna and Neville came to see her in the evening. They treated her like a raw egg, shooting nervous glances to each other from time to time. Once Hermione was close to breaking into hysterical laughter, so weary of lying to them, but of course she stopped herself in time. She was glad when they left. Not long afterwards Dumbledore came, bringing with him a Sleeping Potion and a Calming Draught.

"How are you, dear?" he asked softly, looking at her with a worried expression in his eyes.

Hermione shrugged her shoulders. "Very tired. I hate lying to my friends." She held his gaze. "Did you see Minerva? She's crushed by the thought that Severus betrayed us after all."

Dumbledore nodded slowly, a sad look in his eyes. "I know," he said, suddenly looking very old and weary. "But it is necessary."

Hermione scrutinized his face. "Is it really worth betraying our friends?" she asked quietly. "Abusing the feelings they have for us? I'm not sure…" She looked away. "I'm sorry," she said, "I didn't want to criticize you."

Dumbledore was silent for a few moments. "You are right," he finally said in a sad voice, "it isn't right. You have to believe me that I hate lying to them as much as you do. But I'm convinced it is necessary and therefore I'll do it as long as I have to."

Hermione didn't answer but looked out of the window instead. "Is it true what you told us about the charm?" she suddenly asked.

"It is true." Dumbledore replied. "I'm afraid this as well was a necessary precaution."

Hermione nodded slowly. "I'm glad that nobody will be able to willingly betray us."

"So am I." He paused. "Severus spoke to me."

Hermione's eyes jerked back to him. "Is he alright?" she asked, not trying to hide her eagerness.

Dumbledore gave her a small smile. "He is. Voldemort was very satisfied with his work."

For the first time in many hours Hermione felt the sadness lift a bit. "I am glad," she replied.

Dumbledore looked at her intently. "So am I," he said, a tiny spark in his eyes.

**…**

Hermione kept to herself during the following days, and her friends luckily respected her desire for solitude. She was busy arranging the funeral and for the first time in her life she was glad that both her grandparents had already died and that there were hardly any close relatives to inform.

Two days after the "murder" of her parents, news of another death reached Hogwarts. Dumbledore informed them that the woman who had shared Padma's hospital room, the one who had allegedly taken her chocolate, had suddenly died under mysterious circumstances. It seemed that she'd eaten something poisoned, something which had been intended for Padma. Since this time they were sure that it was attempted murder, Dumbledore now was also certain that her "accident" had been an attempt at her life. It seemed that Padma, even though she still couldn't remember anything about the day of the accident, potentially knew too much to let her live. Dumbledore immediately arranged for her to come to Hogwarts while officially making known that she'd been sent to India to stay with some relatives.

The funeral of Hermione's parents took place a few days later. Many neighbours, friends and relatives, who had been told that the Grangers had died because of a gas leak in the heating, came to pay their last respects to them. All of Hermione's friends came as well, and she nearly broke under their worried and sympathetic looks. Stella seemed to be shaken to the core, shocked by what Snape had done, and Gareth and Matthew fiercely swore revenge. Mrs. Weasley held her so fast and so long that Hermione was close to choking, reassuring her that she'd always have a home at The Burrow, while Mr. Weasley's face wore a stony expression which frightened Hermione more than Harry's or Ron's fierce anger did.

During the following days Hermione slowly settled back into her life again, working hard for Anistaphala and helping Flitwick and the others with the final incantations and charms for the ritual. Examinations had started as well and brought more work for Hermione. Dumbledore had taken over teaching Potions, and she helped him as much as she could, glad to have something to keep her occupied. Somehow Dumbledore had managed to keep the murder of her parents and Snape's involvement in it out of the _Daily Prophet_, and consequently the students didn't know about it. They were surprised at Snape's sudden absence, but seemed to be content with the explanation Dumbledore had given them, that Snape had gone abroad on a special mission for the Ministry. Hermione wasn't so sure if the Slytherins believed him, though. A few times she had thought that some of the students looked at her with a strange expression in their eyes, and she suspected that some had connections to Death Eaters who knew the truth – or what they thought was the truth.

Hermione found herself spending more and more time with Padma. She was the only person around her who didn't know Snape well and wasn't deeply shocked and disappointed at what he had done, and Hermione found this rather soothing. Also, like herself, Padma had to come to terms with blaming herself for terrible things which had happened to others. The death of the man in the Experimental Charms Bureau and the woman in St Mungo's had shaken her deeply. She knew that it wasn't her fault, but it'd take some time until she'd come to terms with it, and for the moment talking to Hermione seemed to help her. Dumbledore had finally told Padma of their suspicions that her "accident" might be connected to Hermione's kidnapping, and she was eager to help them by regaining her memories. Hermione on the other hand was more than willing to talk about someone else's problems.

One evening when Padma, Luna and Hermione had met in Hermione's quarters for a chat, Padma suddenly let out a small cry. Hermione and Luna looked at her worriedly, but she stared through them, her eyes wide, her brow furrowed.

"Are you alright, Padma?" Hermione asked worriedly.

Padma blinked and her eyes focused on them again. "I… I think I remember…" she said hesitantly. She shook her head. "At least a bit."

Hermione felt her pulse quickening with excitement. "You mean the day of the accident?"

Padma nodded slowly. "I remember I was in my office, when suddenly someone came in. Someone I had never seen before." She furrowed her brow again. "I don't know if it was a man or a woman. It's all rather fuzzy. But whoever it was, I'm pretty sure he or she had a strange name…"

"A strange name?" Hermione asked eagerly, staring at Padma.

"Yes, somehow strange. But I'm afraid that's all I can remember at the moment." She shook her head again. "And then I went to the Experimental Charms Bureau, and suddenly the man performed a spell I'd never heard before, and there was a bright flash and then darkness." She looked shaken and Hermione took her hand. "That's all I can remember."

Luna looked at her worriedly, her dreamy eyes surprisingly focused. "I think you should tell Dumbledore," she said. "And perhaps have Poppy look after you. Shall we go and search Dumbledore?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes, let's go." She fetched Harry's invisibility cloak which they had borrowed so that Padma could walk around Hogwarts undetected by the students, and the three young women set out for Dumbledore's office. Unfortunately even with the headmaster's questions and his attempts at Legilimency, Padma couldn't remember anything else. It was frustrating, but they were still heartened by the fact that she'd remembered anything at all.

Now that the stress caused by her parents' supposed murder slowly lessened, Hermione missed Snape more and more. She had never noticed how much he'd been part of her life at Hogwarts, how much she'd enjoyed working with him and talking to him. But that wasn't all she missed, and Hermione was well aware of that. She still wasn't sure about her feelings for him, but whatever they were, after what had happened before they parted she was certain that Snape had feelings for her, too. While one part of her was nervous about that, another longed to explore their relationship, to pick up where they had left off. She'd asked Dumbledore if he was still in contact with him, but he'd told her that they only communicated when it was absolutely necessary since it always was a risk for Snape. So all she could do was to hope that he was alright, that the end would come soon and that they'd survive to explore whatever relationship they had.

**…**

On a Saturday at the end of June Hermione and Lupin went down to the secret library vault to fetch new books to work through. Over the last days Hermione had spent much time working with him, not only because of the work for the ritual, but also because she had agreed to try and brew the Wolfsbane Potion for him. She was rather nervous about it, but Lupin trusted her absolutely and she wanted to give her best for the man who had become a dear friend to her.

They still hadn't found anything out of the ordinary in the secret vault and Hermione was wondering increasingly why the room had been hidden in the first place. Voicing her thoughts to Lupin, he nodded in agreement.

"It's very strange, isn't it?" he said, scanning the rows of books for some to take up with him. "When I remember how excited we were when we detected it, and now after one year we've hardly found anything." He sighed. "Who knows if we'll ever find out what's behind this – and if there is anything in the first place." He paused and turned towards her. "You know, for quite a while I thought this might be the fabled hub."

Hermione, who like him was standing in front of a shelf, stopped browsing the books' titles and looked at him. "You mean the point where all the power which runs through Hogwarts meets? It's an exciting idea," and she looked around her with new attention.

"It certainly is, but I'm afraid it's not the case," Lupin said. "Filius and I did a few tests, and if the hub were somewhere in this room there would be such a concentration of magical power that it could hardly stay hidden. Unfortunately we found that – other than the normal background of magical energy found all throughout Hogwarts – this room contains nothing. Well, the existence of the hub is only a legend to begin with, so perhaps it doesn't exist at all."

They had selected their books in silence for a few moments when Lupin suddenly turned again and shot Hermione a questioning look. "By the way, have you heard anything from Anistaphala concerning your job? It was only for one year, wasn't it?"

Hermione nodded. "She sent me a letter some time ago, telling me that if I wanted I could go on with it for another year."

"And, do you want to go on with it?" Lupin asked, looking at her intently now.

Hermione shrugged her shoulders. With everything that had happened, and the fall of Voldemort still not accomplished, she hadn't really come to a decision yet. "To be honest I don't know. I like working here, living here. I think that eventually I'd really like to teach. But at the moment all I can think of is defeating Voldemort. Everything else hangs on it, doesn't it? And until that's accomplished I can't really plan much ahead. But since we don't know yet when the final confrontation with Voldemort will be, I think I'll accept her offer. I certainly can't leave Hogwarts now."

A great smile lit up Lupin's face, and Hermione felt a jolt of wonder and happiness when she realized how much her answer meant to him. "I'm glad you're staying," he said, suddenly looking a bit self-conscious. "And not only because you'll brew the Wolfsbane Potion for me. And I think you'd be a great teacher."

"Thanks," Hermione said, smiling at him. "Are you finished?"

He nodded and they both gathered up the books they'd take with them and left the vault.

**…**

_It's unbelievable how fast the school year has passed_, Hermione thought as she sat at the teachers' table during the end-of-term leaving feast. Tomorrow the students would leave, and she would stay behind, waiting for something to happen, for the long war to finally come to a close. As she had done so many years now. _I'm sick of waiting_, she thought. _I want it to end, so I can finally get on with my life. And yet isn't it better to wait and live? Who knows how the war might end?_

During the following days Hermione realized that the other teachers must have had very similar thoughts. They had all stayed at Hogwarts, like her waiting for the final confrontation, restlessly discussing how to lure Voldemort to a place where they could perform the ritual on him. They also took up their defense training with new eagerness. One day at lunch Dumbledore told them that he'd at last decided to ask Anistaphala for help. Hermione felt relieved. With her help their chances of success were certainly much better than without it. After dinner Hermione talked to Dumbledore about her decision to stay at Hogwarts for another year, and asked him to tell Anistaphala that she'd accepted her offer.

That afternoon Hermione and Padma were sitting on Hermione's bed, discussing their plans for the summer. It was a hot day and the large windows stood open to let in the warm air. The castle was very quiet without the noise of the students, and for once Hermione allowed herself a few hours of relaxation, the nearest she'd come to a real holiday at the moment.

"I wished I had a bathing suit with me," Padma said wistfully, "then we could go swimming in the lake. I should owl my mum to send me one."

"You can have one of mine," Hermione offered. "You can transfigure it to fit. Come, I'll show you what I have." And she clambered off the bed and went to her wardrobe to present Padma with her rather meager assortment of bathing suits and bikinis.

When she opened the wardrobe Padma's eyes fell on a hairdryer which was lying on one of the shelves in the wardrobe. "What do you have that for?" she asked.

Hermione shrugged her shoulders. "I took it from my parents' house, together with all the other stuff…" her voice trailed off and Padma looked at her worriedly, obviously feeling bad that she'd reminded her of what had happened. Hermione gave her a reassuring smile. "It's ok," she said. "Don't worry. I shrank most of the stuff from our house and put it away in one of the storage rooms up in the attic, but somehow I forgot the hairdryer and now it's lying around here. Perhaps I should give it to Mr. Weasley." She smiled and Padma chuckled. "He'd be delighted and I don't think I'll need it any more."

Padma looked a bit wistfully. "You know, magic is great, but there are definitely some pieces of muggle technology I miss. My computer, for example."

Hermione nodded. "And the internet."

"And TV, as bad as it sometimes is. And the cinema."

The two young women smiled at each other. "Do you think electricity will ever come to the wizarding world?" Padma asked, only half serious.

Hermione snorted. "Not if they can help it. And it's perhaps better that way. Just think of Mr. Weasley. There'd probably be a high mortality rate if they'd ever install electricity." Her eyes got a roguish expression. "But I'm definitely thinking about introducing normal paper and pens, or at least fountain pens."

Suddenly she noticed that Padma had a strange expression on her face and a faraway look in her eyes. "What's the matter, Padma?" she asked, but her friend only shook her head.

"I don't know. Something you said. Or I said." Her face was tense with concentration. "I had it," she said with frustration, "for a second I had it, but now it's gone."

"All right," Hermione said, trying not to feel too excited. "We were talking about my hairdryer. And how I had shrunk all the things in my parents' house and stored them in the attic. And then we said that we missed all the muggle technology, like computer, internet, TV and the cinema. And then we wondered if electricity would ever come to the wizarding world, and I said that it'd perhaps be a dangerous idea. Does this ring a bell?"

Padma looked at her wide eyed. "Electricity," she said haltingly, her face screwed up in concentration. "Electricity… Elek... Elektra?"

Hermione sat up straight, a strange feeling building up in her stomach. "What about her?"

Padma looked at her in confusion. "Do you know someone with that name? Is it even a real name? I'm not sure, but I think that the person who sent me to the Experimental Charms Bureau, the person with the strange name… I think it was something like 'Elektra'."

Hermione's heart skipped a beat. "Elektra Anistaphala," she whispered. "She works at the Ministry." Her mind reeled and she stared at her friend. "Are you sure?"

Padma looked rather unhappy. "No, I'm not. I'm sorry. But I have a feeling that I'm right. What's going on, Hermione?"

Suddenly a thought hit Hermione. "Oh no," she whispered, "Dumbledore went to talk to her today." For a few seconds she was frozen in shock, but then the adrenaline kicked in and reason took over again. Raising her wand, she tried to sum up all her positive feelings and said _Expecto Patronum! _She heaved a sigh of relief when the silvery form of her otter patronus materialised. "Listen," Hermione said to the silvery animal which was eying her with large, curious eyes, "find Dumbledore and tell him that he has to return to Hogwarts immediately. It's an emergency. When he needs more information he shall contact Remus." The otter nodded and disappeared. Next Hermione called a house-elf and asked him when Dumbledore had left Hogwarts. The house-elf told her that it had only been about half an hour ago. Hermione's heart pounded like mad now. She had no idea if he had gone straight to Anistaphala, and if they had started talking about their plans straight away. There was still the possibility that she might stop him in time. If not, and if Anistaphala really was the traitor, not only their plan was betrayed, but Voldemort would know that Snape had lied to him as well.

Feeling sick with worry, Hermione jumped down from her bed and hurried to the fireplace in her living room. She magically lit a fire and dumped a handful of Floo Powder into it, thrusting her head into the fire as soon as it turned green. "Remus' rooms," she said, hoping fervently that he'd be there. She was lucky, he was sitting at a table obviously marking exams.

"Remus," she said hurriedly without as much as a greeting. "I think Anistaphala is the traitor. Ask Padma, I'll send her to you. And Dumbledore has just gone to tell her about our plan! I sent my Patronus to him, but could only tell him that he should return to Hogwarts immediately because of an emergency. I'm going to the Ministry to keep him from telling Anistaphala about our plan, but I told him to call you, and if he does you have to get him away from her at once. I don't know if they wanted to meet in the Ministry in the first place, but please try to reach them via Floo as well. And if he asks you what has happened tell him that Tom Fowles has had an accident with some unknown potion, and that he's needed urgently."

Lupin's face betrayed confusion, shock and finally cold determination. "I understand. We also have to make sure that if Dumbledore has already told her our plan she mustn't have the chance to tell Voldemort."

Hermione nodded. "I'm off. Good luck."

"Good luck Hermione."

She pulled her head out of the fire and hurried towards the cupboard in which she kept her broom. It would bring her outside the Hogwarts wards quicker then she could ever be on foot. Padma was looking at her in confusion and worry, and Hermione hastily said "Please go to Remus' rooms immediately, he'll explain everything." Padma looked as if she wanted to ask her something, but then just nodded and left. Hermione went to one of the large open window, stepped onto the windowsill, climbed onto her broom and stepped out into nothingness.

She flew faster than she ever had in her life, the warm air rushing against her screwed up face. After only a few moments she reached the boundary and landed. She had hardly touched the ground when she thrust her broom away and disapparated.

Hermione apparated in the dingy street where the visitor's entrance to the Ministry was situated, jerked the door to the broken-down telephone box open and dialled 62442. When the welcome witch's voice asked her her name and business, she yelled "Hermione Granger, an emergency." Immediately a silver badge with her name and the word "Emergency" slid out of the metal chute where returned coins usually appeared and the phone box started to drop.

The elevator seemed to take ages and Hermione was sick with worry that Dumbledore might just now tell Anistaphala about their plan. When it finally stopped, Hermione rushed out into the atrium, nearly knocking over two wizards who were waiting for the elevator. Ignoring the angry shouts of the witch at the security desk, she ran through the atrium and down the corridor to Anistaphala's room. _Please, let him be there, let him be there and not having told her already_ pounded in her head. Her side hurt with stitch and the people in the corridors looked at her in wonder as she tore down the hallways. Turning around a corner, she nearly collided with someone. She hardly looked at the person, but was about to hurry on, when a voice said "Hermione". Skidding to a halt, she recognized Dumbledore, accompanied by Anistaphala, both looking at her worriedly.

Relief flooded through her. At least she had found him. "We got your Patronus and talked to Remus," Dumbledore said. "Is that the reason why you came to get me?" He looked surprised.

Hermione nodded fervently. "You have to come back immediately," she said panting, "Poppy said that time is crucial, and I didn't know if you'd get my message." She shot Anistaphala a worried glance. She had to talk to Dumbledore in private, to make sure that he hadn't told her about their plan.

The headmaster raised an eyebrow. "Then let's go. Elektra," he said, turning to the elder woman, "I'm sorry for this, but I'll contact you soon to finish our talk. Thanks for your time."

Anistaphala nodded, still looking a bit bewildered. "I hope it turns out well. Good bye." And to Hermione's great relief she turned and walked down the corridor.

Dumbledore looked at Hermione with a frown on his face. "No tell me, what is going on."

Hermione looked around nervously. They were alone in the corridor, but she wasn't sure how much she could say here. "Is it safe to talk here?" she asked.

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow, than got out his wand, murmured something under his breath, and said "now it is."

Hermione looked him straight in the eyes. "I think Anistaphala is the traitor. Padma remembered something about the accident," and she told Dumbledore what had happened.

Dumbledore's face grew very tense. "She's not sure, is she?"

Hermione shook her head. "She's not. But it's possible, isn't it? Did you tell Anistaphala about our plan?"

Dumbledore looked at her very seriously. "I did."

Hermione let out a strangled gasp. "Then we'll have to stop her, or Severus will die."

Dumbledore had already turned and hurried down the corridor, Hermione tearing after him. She only hoped that in the few minutes which had past Anistaphala hadn't been able to inform Voldemort. A few moments later they arrived in front of her door and Dumbledore jerked it wide open.

"Albus," she said in obvious surprise. "What's going on?"

Hermione quickly closed the door behind her while Dumbledore strode towards Anistaphala. "I'm sorry," he said when he drew his wand. Her eyes widened and she reached for her wand, but Dumbledore was faster. Suddenly she went rigid, her eyes closed and she slumped onto the floor.

"She's only unconscious," he said, took a paperweight from her desk and cast _Portus_. "Hold on to it," he told Hermione, grabbed the unconscious Anistaphala, and a second later they were back in his office.

Hermione's mind was whirling. Since Padma had told her the strange name, hardly more than fifteen minutes could have passed. She stared down on the unconscious woman and Dumbledore, who was looking at Anistaphala with a mixture of disbelief, disappointment and cold anger.

"I'll take care of her," he said in an unfamiliar hard voice which sent a shiver down Hermione's spine. "Don't worry, I'll soon know if she's innocent or not." His gaze softened a bit as he turned towards her. "You did well. Let's hope that she couldn't inform Voldemort."

"What about Severus?" Hermione asked worriedly.

"Don't worry, I'll warn him." Dumbledore replied. "Please go to the others and tell them to come here in an hour. I should have some answers then."

Hermione nodded and left his office, her heart still pounding. She felt sick with excitement and worry, and Dumbledore's assurance that he'd warn Snape did hardly anything to lessen her worries. Hermione went to Lupin first, telling him and Padma what had happened, and then informed the other teachers. Their reaction was as surprised and shocked as hers. How could Anistaphala, whose husband Thomas had been killed by Voldemort, be a traitor?

The hour seemed to draw out forever, and Hermione was pacing the corridor in front of Dumbledore's office long before it had ended. When she and the others finally gathered in the office, she could hardly sit still with worry. Anistaphala had disappeared and Dumbledore wasn't there as well. Finally he came in, looking old and very weary.

"My friends," he said slowly, "I'm afraid I have bad news. Elektra has indeed betrayed us."

A heavy silence spread over them and Hermione held her breath.

"Luckily however," Dumbledore went on, "we could stop her before she was able to inform Voldemort about the plan I revealed to her today. We were very lucky, I hadn't yet performed the charm on her which would have made it impossible for her to tell him about the real contents of Micaelus's book."

Hermione let out a strangely strangled sigh. "Are you absolutely sure?" she asked, her voice shaking.

Dumbledore nodded and gave her a tiny smile. "I am. Our plans are still unknown to Voldemort." He held her gaze a fraction longer than necessary, and Hermione felt immense relief flood through her. "Elektra knew that Hermione would stay in London overnight," Dumbledore said, turning towards the others, "and she knew that the last time she had stayed in London it had been with a muggle friend. So it wasn't hard for her to ask Miss Patil about that friend's name. Then she put one of the employees in the Experimental Charms Bureau under the Imperius to perform a deadly charm and sent Miss Patil to him." Dumbledore paused. "The man killed himself, but luckily only injured Miss Patil. Then Elektra waited if she'd regain her memories of that day, and when that seemed likely she tried to kill her for the second time, but again luck prevented the murder – at the cost of another person's life."

"But how could she turn traitor?" Flitwick asked, visibly shaken. "Voldemort killed Thomas!"

Now Dumbledore's blue eyes, which normally were full of friendliness and mirth, became steely. "It turns out Elektra has been a traitor far longer than we could ever imagine. It was her who betrayed Thomas to Voldemort."

Flitwick and Sprout gasped in shock. McGonagall's face was very tense. "First Severus, now Elektra," she said slowly. "Is there anyone or anything we can really trust?"

They all looked at each other with a strange mixture of worry and wariness, but Dumbledore, who was sitting next to McGonagall, reached towards her and gently took her hands in hers. "We'll never be certain," he said, looking first her and then everyone else in the eyes. "But now Severus has revealed himself and we've caught Elektra there is no need to think that there are more traitors. We were extremely lucky today."

McGonagall nodded slowly, but her face was still worried. "So it wasn't only Severus who told Voldemort about Micaelus's book? How did Elektra know about it?"

"It was the parchment," Dumbledore said, let go of McGonagall's hands and took a blank piece of parchment from his desk.

"You mean the parchment she gave us to record our findings concerning the books from the vault?" Hermione asked.

Dumbledore nodded. "You know she not only gave us those forms to fill in, but also blank parchment. Parchment of very good quality, so good in fact that everyone would happily write on it rather than on our normal school parchment."

Hermione nodded, her eyes wide. She'd loved the smooth surface of the parchment and had used every scratch of it that Anistaphala had provided for her.

"It turns out that the parchment was charmed to transmit everything which was written on it to Elektra. Obviously she was afraid that I might try to hold back whatever important thing we might find in the secret vault. That's why she and consequently Voldemort had only a sketchy knowledge of Micaelus's book. It seems that by sheer luck we haven't written anything crucial on it."

"So we stay with our plan?" Lupin asked.

"Yes, we stay with our plan."

Lupin nodded slowly. "And what do we do with Anistaphala?"

"We'll keep her here as long as this might last," Dumbledore said, looking very serious. "Don't worry, she won't be able to betray us again."

* * *

_Wow, over 100__,000 words! When I started this I'd never have thought that it'd get so long. For your information: there'll probably be five more chapters until the story is finished. _

_As always thanks for your reviews! And by the way: "Anistaphala" is Sanskrit and means "evil result" (or so the internet tells me) ;-)._


	24. Shadows in the mist

**Shadows in the mist**

It was a warm Wednesday evening at the end of July and Hermione had just had dinner at the edge of the lake. A few days ago Dumbledore had decided that since the weather was so fine they would take their meals outside, and consequently tables and sunshades had been set up close to the lake. Some of the teachers had been sceptic at first, but Hermione thought it a brilliant idea to exchange the cold stone hall for the warm summer air and open sky. This evening they didn't leave the tables after dinner but kept sitting, talking to each other and enjoying the mellow evening. Hermione was just taking a sip of pumpkin juice when suddenly a great silvery eagle appeared over the table. She nearly choked when the Patronus opened its beak to speak with Bill Weasley's voice: "Please help us, Albus, Death Eaters have surrounded our house. Take care." Then the eagle flapped its wings and disappeared.

They all sat in shock for a second until Dumbledore's voice cut in. "Go immediately. Minerva and Remus, you know their house, don't you?" McGonagall and Lupin nodded. "There are anti-Apparition wards around it, so you'll have to apparate to a spot nearby. I'll inform the Weasleys and other members and join you as soon as possible."

Hermione, McGonagall, Flitwick, Lupin, Neville, Luna, Padma and Madame Sprout got up immediately and hurried through the grounds. They were gasping for breath when they arrived outside the perimeter of the wards. "Most of you know that Bill and Fleur live in a little cottage on a cliff at the sea." McGonagall said. "We'll apparate to a small grove about half a mile from it. Grab my arms and I'll take you there." They did as she'd told them and they all disapparated.

When they apparated they found themselves in a small beech grove. A salty smell hung in the air and they could hear the rolling of the ocean not far away. Wands at the ready, they looked around them attentively, but there was nobody in sight. The air was still warm but the light was already failing and in the dusk it would be difficult to discern anything.

Hermione's heart was pounding. This was it, the real thing, no training with the teachers but real fighting. It had been many years since she'd done anything like it, and she didn't know if she was ready for it, but she didn't have a choice now. She was worried for Bill and Fleur, and also worried that Snape might be there. It was now nearly six weeks since the alleged murder of her parents, and a part of her wanted to see him very badly while another part knew that when her friends saw him he would be in grave danger.

Lupin took over command and told them to spread in a row and slowly advance towards the cottage. They could see the solitary house on the top of the cliff silhouetted against the dusky sky. Light shone through some of the cottage's windows but there were neither movements nor noises. They advanced carefully, bent close to the ground or seeking shelter behind small bushes. After about fifteen minutes they arrived at a low stonewall which circled the cottage. They crouched down in its shelter and suddenly McGonagall transformed into a cat, jumped lightly onto the wall and disappeared behind it.

_Probably waiting is the worst __thing_, Hermione thought as she was sitting on the grass which was already slightly wet with dew. She held her wand at the ready and tried to penetrate the growing darkness with her eyes, ready to hurl spells any second. Although it could have been only a few minutes it seemed like ages until the cat appeared again. McGonagall transformed back and whispered "They have them. I saw three Death Eaters with masks in the living room. Bill and Fleur are unconscious, but because of the wards the Death Eaters can't just disapparate with them, they'll have to take them out of the house."

Lupin nodded. "That's our chance. We'll wait here at the garden door and attack them as soon as they come out. Is there another door?"

"Yes," McGonagall replied, "a backdoor in the kitchen. It's at the other end of the house, out onto the side of the cliff."

Lupin looked a bit worried. "I don't like to divide our forces, but I guess we'll have to watch that door as well in case they want to use it. Filius, Neville and Hermione, you'll guard the backdoor. If they try to get out there, stun them. We'll hear what's going on and come to your help. Minerva, Luna, Padma and Pomona, you stay with me here."

They all nodded their consent and Flitwick, Neville and Hermione hurried along the stonewall towards the backdoor. It was not far from the edge of the cliff and Hermione got a view of a sheer and long drop down to a stony beach.

More waiting now. Suddenly Hermione thought she heard some movement in the cottage, and then all of a sudden hell broke loose.

Voices at the front of the house were yelling spells, but the voices weren't her friends', at least not at first. Something had gone wrong. There was more shouting and the lights of different spells split the falling night as Hermione, Flitwick and Neville left their cover to help their friends. Suddenly the backdoor burst open and a Death-Eater came hurrying out. When he saw them he stopped dead in his track and started to say something, but Flitwick's _Expelliarmus_ and Hermione's _Stupefy_ got him first. Hermione hardly gave him a second glance and made to follow Neville who had already run towards the front door while Flitwick was magically tying the Death Eater up.

It was hard to discern what was going on in the gathering darkness which was only partly punctuated by the light from the house and the flashes of spells. It seemed that the three Death Eaters in the house were not the only ones, but that there had been more of them outside who had detected Lupin and the others. Casting protective spells, Hermione crouched down again against the wall and crawled on slowly to try to find out how many Death Eaters there were. She could hear Lupin not far to her right, and she was pretty sure that there were at least five or six Death Eaters in- and outside the garden. As far as she could see they all wore masks which now proved to be disadvantageous to them since they reflected the light. She just hoped that none of them was Snape.

Hermione saw stealthy movement not far ahead and formulated a silent spell which knocked the Death Eater unconscious. Smiling grimly, she bound him with the same charm Flitwick had used and then tried to get closer to Lupin while spells were whizzing over her head. Suddenly there was a marked drop in the Death-Eaters' resistance and only a few spells rent the darkness from time to time.

"Where are they?" Hermione asked tensely when she finally had reached Lupin who had taken cover behind a box tree.

"I don't know," he replied, carefully searching the garden and giving signs to Padma and McGonagall who were crouched in a flower bed to their right. "It seems they're retreating."

Suddenly sounds came out of the house. "I guess that Filius has barricaded the back door," Hermione said with a grim smile. "They'll have to find another way out."

Lupin looked worried. "Let's just hope they don't kill Bill and Fleur. We should try to get in."

Hermione nodded, feeling very worried, and the two of them made to advance towards the front door when suddenly one of the windows at the side of the cottage burst open and the two Death Eaters scrambled out. Several spells followed them and one Death Eater was hit and crumbled to the ground but the other jumped over the wall and ran towards the edge of the cliff. Lupin hurried after him, yelling for McGonagall, Hermione and Neville to follow him and for Flitwick, Luna, Padma and Sprout to stay and look after Bill and Fleur and to check if the other Death Eaters were really gone.

Hurrying after Lupin, Hermione reached the edge of the cliff. There was a small and steep path leading down to the beach and she saw Lupin climbing down, aiming a spell at the Death Eater from time to time. Hoping grimly that she wouldn't slip and fall to her death, Hermione began to descend. It would have been a challenging climb even in broad daylight, but in the dusk it was dangerous. She didn't dare to make some light since then she'd been a perfect target for any Death Eaters down on the beach. Her heart was pounding and once she slipped and grazed her ankle against a sharp stone. Cursing silently, Hermione tried to ignore the pain and climbed further and further down. Neville was a few metres behind her, and in spite of her dangerous situation she had to smile when the wind wafted his curses down to her from time to time.

When she finally arrived at the beach after what seemed like ages, Lupin was waiting for her.

"Did you get him?" she asked, squinting into the gathering darkness. It was low tide and the beach, which was covered with pebbles of various sizes and a few larger rocks, was about fifty metres wide. In the dusk she couldn't discern for how long it went on in front and behind her.

"No." Lupin replied. "But I think he can't get away from here. As far as I know this beach is not much longer than half a mile and bounded by high and steep cliffs. There is movement over there." He pointed towards the cliff to their left, a towering wall of darkness. "Perhaps there are more of them."

Hermione furrowed her brow. "Why should they gather here when there's no way out? Or wait," she looked at him, "do you think they could have used Portkeys?"

Lupin nodded, distracted by Neville who came skidding down in a shower of rocks. "I think it's possible. They somehow had to overcome the anti-Apparition wards, and down here they could apparate without being seen. Let's wait until Minerva is here and then we'll see."

Hermione nodded, feeling very tense. If there truly were a bunch of Death Eaters stuck like rats, they'd fight back really hard.

A few minutes later McGonagall, who had transformed into a cat to get down, was standing beside them. "I'm getting too old for stuff like this," she murmured. "There's someone over there," she went on, pointing to the blackness ahead. "Five people. Shall I transform again?"

Lupin shook his head. "I think we'll have to try our chances and advance. I'd like to wait for reinforcement, but we don't know how long it'll take and I want to prevent them from getting away."

"Well, then let's go," McGonagall said, her mouth set very firmly. They advanced slowly, trying to discern any movement in the darkness ahead of them. Suddenly streaks of light and voices yelling spells tore the dusky air. Without thinking Hermione shouted "_Protego_!" and sunk down on her knees, a few spells bouncing from her shield or whizzing over her head. To her right, Lupin had lunged behind a large boulder and was firing spells into the darkness. Hermione saw Neville to her left, like her crouched onto the ground, while McGonagall was further away. They fired spells for several minutes, the Death Eaters showering them with so many that they had no chance to advance any further. Suddenly it seemed that the spells were coming from a different direction further down the beach. "They're getting away," Lupin shouted. "We have to follow them. Give me cover." Hermione nodded and he left the shadow of his boulder and, bent low, hurried along the beach while Hermione, Neville and McGonagall were hurling a number of spells in the direction where they hoped the Death Eaters were. There was definitely less resistance now, and when Lupin had gone Hermione shouted to Neville, "I'm next, give me cover." He nodded and started firing spells, McGonagall following suit, and Hermione took a deep breath and hurried after Lupin.

She couldn't see him, the gathering darkness and a strange mist which had suddenly crept up the beach hiding the world around her. Hermione carefully hurried from cover to cover, but it was increasingly difficult to discern anything. _What's this mist?_ she thought worriedly, trying to detect Lupin. _It has to be some magic, natural mist would never be as thick as this_. Visibility was down to only a few feet now, but when Hermione, crouching behind a boulder, cast _Lumos_ it nevertheless brought spells whizzing over her head and she put it out again. Suddenly she heard Neville call out "Hermione, Remus!", and immediately spells were fired into his direction. Crouching low over the ground again, Hermione made back for Neville and McGonagall. The mist was lit by the streaks of spells, but all Hermione could discern were shadows, and since she didn't want to hurt her friends she didn't fire but just tried to get to them. Suddenly she heard a cry which she thought sounded like Neville and cold fear grabbed her. She tried to get to where the shout had come from, but there the fighting seemed to be especially fierce and she had to take cover behind a large boulder. Hermione tried to discern anything, but all she saw was swirling mist and streaks of colour as people cast spells. The sound of the voices was distorted as well, and she had no idea who of her friends was still fighting or where exactly they were.

After a while it seemed that the fighting was moving away from her, the sounds becoming ever more muffled. Debating with herself what to do now, she suddenly heard a voice so close she nearly jumped.

"Oh look what we have here!" a woman said in a strangely cooing tone, "The little Longbottom boy! And the old hag McGonagall!"

Hermione froze. She knew that voice, knew who was giggling triumphantly only a few feet away. Bellatrix Lestrange. And it seemed that she had Neville and McGonagall in her power.

"We should go now, Bella," a second, tense voice said.

"Oh don't you worry, Rodolphus," the woman replied, "the others will keep them occupied. And just look what we can bring our Lord!" Her voice was full of exhilarating triumph and a cruel tenderness that sent shivers down Hermione's spine. "He'll be so pleased! And how much fun we'll have with them."

"Yes, yes," another man, whom Hermione immediately recognized as Lucius Malfoy, cut in. "That's certainly very nice. But I agree with Rodolphus, we should return as long as the mist-spell works. Now where are those Portkeys..."

Hermione heard his steps on the pebbles as Malfoy was obviously looking for whatever had brought them there.

_They'll take Neville and McGonagall with them_, she thought, trying not to panic. _And no one will know where they are_. Hermione wracked her brain what to do now. She didn't know where Lupin was, and there was no time to get help. But neither would she be able to defeat three or even more Death Eaters on her own. If there was more than one Portkey, however, she might be able to follow them...

Craning her head around the boulder, trying to see something through the mist without being seen herself, Hermione got a glimpse of moving figures not far from her. She groped in her gown and after a few moments got out the fake Galleon, pointed her wand and mumbled _Reperio_. After casting a Disillusionment Charm as well, she kept the now practically invisible coin tightly grabbed in her hand.

"What idiot had the idea of using stones as Portkeys on a beach of pebbles!" Malfoy's angry voice cut through the mist. "And I can't see anything in this damn mist."

"Keep your voice down," the other man who must be Bellatrix's husband Rodolphus Lestrange hissed. "There are two Portkeys, the large white stones with the green veins."

More angry mumbling from Malfoy, but after a few minutes he called out "I have one! Now let's get out of here."

Hermione heard someone cast _Mobilicorpus_ and thought she saw dim figures gathering not far away from her. Suddenly they vanished and she was alone, the pounding of her heart the only sound apart from the rolling of the waves.

There was no time to lose. Hermione didn't know where her friends would be finally taken and if the second Portkey would stay activated much longer. The Order had to know where they were, to rescue them before Voldemort was able to question them and detect all their plans. If he did that, it would not only mean that he'd know about Micaelus's ritual, but it'd also endanger Snape's position. If only Lupin were there! Hermione called out "Remus!" a few times, but got no response. She felt a wave of fear wash over her, fear for her friends and for herself. But there was really only one thing she could do.

Raising her wand, she tried to sum up all her positive feelings and memories and said "_Expecto Patronum!_"Only faint silvery mist erupted from her wand. _Concentrate_, Hermione thought angrily, _it worked so well when you found out about Anistaphala, and now your friends really need you!_ Raising her wand again, trying to block out the worries that filled her mind, she focused all her mind on positive memories and feelings. "_Expecto Patronum!_" The silvery form of her otter Patronus melted away the mist around her. Sighing with relief, Hermione turned towards the animal and said. "Listen, go to Dumbledore and tell him that Neville and McGonagall were taken by Bellatrix, her husband and Lucius Malfoy. They used a Portkey and I'm following. I activated my Galleon, so they should be able to track me. That's all."

The otter nodded and vanished with a graceful turn of its body. Trying to discern anything with her eyes or ears, Hermione slowly got up. The world was shrouded in mist and there was still no sign of Lupin or anyone else anywhere to be seen or heard. Carefully she cast Lumos, but no spells where hurled in her direction as she went towards the place where she had seen the Death Eaters disappear. Due to the mist it was hard to be certain, and glancing at the pebble covered ground it was even harder to find a specific stone. Walking around slowly, Hermione got more and more nervous. _I don't have the time_, she thought frantically, sweeping the ground with her eyes. She didn't want to think of what might happen to Neville and McGonagall even now. Suddenly she hit upon a large, white stone which was streaked with green veins. Hermione crouched down beside it, touched the stone, held fast to her wand and cast the spell.

The familiar jerk at her navel told her that it had been the right one. As the world stopped spinning, Hermione found herself in the middle of a dusky room. She shot up, wand at the ready, and listened intently for a few seconds, but the pounding of her heart and her fast breathing were the only things she heard. Carefully she hurried over to one of the walls and pressed herself into the shadow of a large cupboard. Her eyes quickly adapted to the dimness of the room and she thought it must be something like an entrance hall. There was a large door which seemed to be the front door, and across from it a broad staircase. It looked like a grand house, but it seemed to have been deserted for some time and exuded an atmosphere of neglect. The floor was dusty and there were footprints all over it.

The most important thing now was to get rid of the Galleon before they found her. Hermione didn't dare to open the cupboard or one of the doors for fear of detection, but instead hastily cast a few spells on the coin, reached up and placed it on top of the cupboard. Then, her heart pounding like mad, she carefully opened the door next to it. The room behind it was empty and looked like a cloak room, full of shelves and hangers for clothes. Quickly Hermione went back to the cupboard, retrieved the Galleon and placed it onto one of the shelves in the room. She wanted to make it as hard as possible for Lucius and his Death Eater-friends to find the coin, and due to the charms she had put on it it now was not only invisible, but would also not react to an Accio-spell. When she left the room Hermione cast another spell to hide the footprints she had made in the dust and then carefully went towards the staircase. She had to find her friends, and she had to find them fast, before they were interrogated by Voldemort. Deep down she knew that there was only one way in which she would be able to do that. She wasn't an action movie star who single handedly could overcome hundreds of baddies. The only way in which she could prevent Voldemort from interrogating her friends was to give him a more attractive toy to keep him occupied – herself.

Every fibre in her body told Hermione to stay hidden and wait for her friends to come and save them, but she couldn't do that. Voldemort might be torturing Neville even now, and he wouldn't be able to resist for long. She didn't know how long the spell which Dumbledore had put on them would prevent Voldemort from accessing their memories, but she was quite certain that Neville was no trained Occlumens. Snape might be able to help him and McGonagall, but she couldn't be certain that he was even there. So shaking from head to foot, her wand clenched in her cold hand, Hermione set out to find Voldemort.

Although she followed the footprints on the dusty floor, it proved to be surprisingly hard to find Voldemort, the house being so large. And she couldn't just start shouting or otherwise make it too easy for them to detect her or they'd grow suspicious. Hermione hurried through the dim and deserted corridors for several minutes, getting increasingly desperate. Where were they? On rounding a corner she suddenly saw someone standing at one of the large windows, gazing out into the night. Although she had tried to walk as silently as possible, he turned on the sound of her footsteps and Hermione immediately recognized the pale, pointed face and white-blond hair of Draco.

"Granger!" he said, his eyes widening in surprise.

"_Stupefy!_" Hermione shouted, and a beam of red light hit Draco before he could even draw his wand. He slumped down and after a short look at him Hermione went on.

Walking through the dark and dusty corridors, turning corners only to find other empty hallways, she felt increasingly sick with worry for her friends and for herself, but tried very hard not to panic. _It's really simple_, she thought, trying to think logically to keep the fear at bay. _There are only three things you'll have to do. You have to divert them from interrogating Neville and McGonagall, and to keep them occupied as long as possible until help comes. That shouldn't be too hard. Only painful_. She shivered. _The really difficult thing will be not to give Voldemort access to our real plans. And you know you can do that, don't you? _She wavered for a second, a traitorous voice inside her saying _What makes you so sure that you're better suited for this than McGonagall? On the contrary, if Voldemort breaks your guard he'll also learn about Snape, and he'll kill him and you'll be responsible for his death… _Her breath quickened and she started shivering. _I can't do that_, a voice inside her yelled, _I'm not a hero, I'm not suited for this_. She leant against the wall for a few moments, closed her eyes and drew deep breaths to calm herself. _Get a grip_, she thought angrily, pushing the panic away. _Harry does stuff like this all the time. And I simply have no choice. Even if McGonagall might be able to withstand Voldemort, I don't think Neville can. I have to divert him as best as I can, and that's all that's left for me. _Hermione opened her eyes again. She still felt sick, but she had stopped shivering. _I really have to hurry_, she thought, angry with herself. _I guess it's better to get it over with quickly than worrying any longer._ Grasping her wand even harder, she left the wall and went down the hallway.

A few minutes later she came to a corridor which somehow looked less derelict and abandoned than the rest of the house. Light shimmered through the bottom of a door further down the hallway and Hermione crept along the wall carefully. She had no idea what she should do next, after all she could not simply walk into the room and say hello, but she was spared this decision when a loud screech suddenly erupted from a dusty painting opposite of her.

"Intruder! Intruder!"

When her eyes shot up, she saw the enraged figure of a wizard in old-fashioned clothes who pointed at her, his bright eyes flashing menacingly. There was no place to hide and Hermione knew that she had no chance of escape, and anyway didn't want to. The door burst open and four people stormed outside, shouting spells at her as soon as they spotted her. Hermione in return erected defenses and hurled spells at her attackers faster than she ever had. Two more Death Eaters came out of the room, and when Hermione saw the billowing of a dark robe and a pale face behind a curtain of black hair her heart skipped a beat. It was over soon, she couldn't fight six Death Eaters at the same time. Her defenses broke down, various spells hit her and she sank onto the floor, nothingness sweeping over her.

Suddenly she was jerked out of this pleasant unconsciousness. Slowly opening her eyes, Hermione found herself lying on the floor. Her whole body hurt from the spells that had hit her and the light of the room stung in her eyes. There were voices murmuring around her and she knew that now the time had come to fight as hard and to pretend as good as she could.

Slowly Hermione raised her head. She was in what looked like a large drawing room, the floor and walls covered in dark wood, expensive but slightly shabby furniture standing around. In spite of the warm summer night a large fire was burning in the fireplace, casting flickering shadows in the room which was otherwise rather dim. The air was stiflingly hot. About four feet to her right lay the still forms of Neville and McGonagall. Either the Death Eaters hadn't been able to wake them up yet, or they were dead. Hermione very much hoped for the first. In front of her ten people were either sitting in armchairs or standing around. She recognized Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, Bellatrix, Crabbe, Pettigrew, Snape and the man she had never met personally, but who had dominated her life for so many years now. Voldemort.

As Harry had told her he was tall and sickly thin, and his face was very white with burning, scarlet eyes and a nose which had only slits for nostrils. He would have looked ridiculous if he hadn't been so frightening.

"Ah, Miss Granger has woken up," he hissed with a menacing smile. All eyes turned towards her as she slowly got up, concentrating very hard not to collapse again. It was time to play her role now.

"You murderer!" she shouted, staggering towards Snape. "Traitor! How could you do something like that!" A Death Eater she didn't know caught her and easily restrained her. The only thing she could do was to hurl insults into Snape's unperturbed face, but he just curled his mouth disdainfully.

"I see Miss Granger has taken a special liking to you, Severus," Voldemort said with a laugh. "How touching. But tell us, Miss Granger," he said in a very cold voice, turning towards her, "what brings you here?"

She had to play for time, to draw this out as long as possible. And so she kept silent, looking into his eyes defiantly although her heart was pounding like mad.

"Didn't you hear what the master told you, you filthy mudblood?" Bellatrix hissed. Her eyes were burning with a mad fire and Hermione found her even more frightening than Voldemort. But she kept silent. Bellatrix's face contorted in rage. "Crucio!" she shouted, and Hermione's body was rent by such pain that she couldn't prevent crying out. She hit the floor, shaking in uncontrollable spasms, and when the pain finally lessened it was like paradise.

"Will you answer now?" Voldemort's icy voice cut through the pain still filling her brain.

Hermione tried to get up, and when she finally managed it she was swaying dangerously, but kept standing. "I saw your minions take Neville and McGonagall," she said in a rasping voice. "I followed."

Some of the Death Eaters laughed but Voldemort looked at her doubtingly. "That was not a very clever move, and you are supposed to be very clever," he said slowly, scrutinizing her with his inhuman eyes.

"But she is also a Gryffindor," Snape's cold voice cut in. Hermione turned her eyes towards him, marveling at the way in which he kept up his mask. There was no trace of sympathy in his face. "Over the last years I've made the experience that when it comes to rescuing her friends, Miss Granger will display all the famous Gryffindor-recklessness." He paused, looking at her intently. "Still, we should search her for the Galleon I told you about."

"Traitor!" Hermione hissed, only rewarded with a small, disdainful laugh. "Did you really think we would still use it after what you have done?"

"We'll see," Voldemort said. "Bella," he waved his long, spidery hand, "search her." Bellatrix went towards Hermione and searched her very thoroughly but without any result. "So you have really discarded the Galleons after Severus left?" Voldemort asked, his red eyes burning into hers. "Legilimens!"

When Voldemort entered her mind it felt completely different to what Hermione knew from Snape. While Snape's presence had been hardly noticeable, Voldemort took no such care, and it felt as if he was raking her brain with sharp claws. Hermione wanted to cry out in pain, but she had to concentrate, she had to convince him that he got truthful information while really only giving him access to what she wanted him to see. What she showed him was a mixture of real and made up memories, her shock at her parents' death and Snape's betrayal, her colleagues' similar reactions and their decision not to use the Galleons anymore. She also showed him what had happened on the beach, how she had found herself alone, overheard the Death Eaters and decided to follow them, how she had found the Portkey and arrived here, how she had set out to search them in the large house and how she had stupefied Draco.

Suddenly the pain in her head eased and when she looked up she saw a triumphant smile play around Voldemort's lips.

"Narcissa," he said, "the Mudblood stupefied Draco. You'll find him in the corridor with the tapestry of Iwan the Great."

Narcissa drew in her breath and shot Hermione a look of burning hatred, then she hurried out of the room.

"Well, well, what a night," Voldemort said with audible mirth, turning towards Bellatrix and Lucius. "It was a bad idea to attack the Weasley welp," Bellatrix and Lucius flinched, "but at least you brought me three valuable pawns. Minerva McGonagall, my old teacher and confidant of Dumbledore. And Neville Longbottom, who even if he himself is hardly valuable will at least be a useful hostage." At these words Hermione felt a great weight lift. Her friends were obviously still alive. "And Hermione Granger," Voldemort went on. He turned towards her again, his eyes very hard. "You've escaped once, mudblood. Don't think you will again."

A cold shiver ran down Hermione's spine as she threatened to loose herself in his red eyes. "And now we'll finally have the conversation we should have had months ago," he hissed. "Legilimens!"

He was in her mind again, clawing away at her memories and thoughts, looking for what she knew about Micaelus. Hermione sank to the floor, pretending to be overcome by the onslaught, bending over to break the eye-contact and to concentrate better. It hurt so very much as he was racking through her mind and she was trying to keep all those thoughts he mustn't see secure while giving him other memories he'd be happy with. And there was another thing she could do now, a wild idea she had had on her way through the dark mansion. Hermione didn't know how long his examination took, but suddenly Voldemort was out of her head. She stayed crouched on the floor, her body aching and her head pounding like mad. She tried to be as invisible as possible, not daring to meet his eyes lest he should see the truth in them.

"How interesting," Voldemort said quietly, and then chuckled. "How very interesting. Thank you very much, Miss Granger." His voice now was gloating and full of triumph. "You have helped me a great deal."

Suddenly the door opened and when Hermione tentatively raised her head she saw Narcissa and Draco enter.

"Ah, Draco," Voldemort drawled. "I take it you have met Miss Granger already?"

Draco was staring at her, his face very white. "She caught me unawares," he said in a defensive tone.

"Yes, yes," Voldemort said dismissively. "It seems that Miss Granger has this quality." He looked down on her with a little smile on his thin lips. "But she won't be able to do that again, no she won't." He paused and silently looked at her. Hermione again lowered her head and stared down on the floor in front of her to avoid his eyes. "Hermione Granger," he finally said ponderingly, "look where your friends, your pride and your silly Gryffindor-loyalty has brought you." He was silent for a few moments and Hermione was wondering what would happen next. Her body tensed, but she still didn't dare to look up. Suddenly Voldemort said very softly "Crucio."

Hermione was torn apart by pain again. She bit her teeth together to prevent herself from crying out, and when the pain lessened she tasted blood from where she had bit on her lip.

"Still so proud?" she heard Bellatrix's mocking voice through the dimness which had settled in her head. "Crucio!"

This time she couldn't keep herself from crying out any longer. She heard her cries, but they didn't sound like her at all, but strangely inhuman, and a part of her brain which was not contorting in pain was surprised that she could produce such sounds. When the pain stopped it took rather long until she could open her eyes. She found herself lying on her back, staring up to the ceiling, her body raw with pain. But she wouldn't just lay there, not in their presence, and so she carefully turned around, biting her teeth together not to cry out, and raised herself to a sitting position, panting heavily.

"I think that's enough for the moment," Voldemort said dispassionately. "Avery, take McGonagall and Longbottom to the dungeons, I'll attend to them when they wake up."

One of the Death Eaters went to the lifeless forms of her friends, cast _Mobilicorpus_ and left the room through a door in the opposite wall. Hermione followed them with her eyes, immensely relieved that she had bought some time for them.

"But what shall we do with you?" Voldemort said ponderingly, a nasty tone in his voice, and Hermione's eyes returned to his inhuman face.

"Give her to me." Snape's dispassionate voice cut through the silence.

Hermione stared at him, too weak to say anything, but trying to convey a look of shock and loathing.

Voldemort turned to Snape and eyed him with something like surprise. "Severus, Severus," he said slowly with a mocking undertone, "I never knew you had an interest in her." He shot a glance in Hermione's direction. "Granted, she's not too bad looking and you certainly could have some fun with her…at least when you have disciplined her…" His eyes glittered with mirth and a cold shower ran down Hermione's spine.

Snape's mouth curled into a very ugly smile. "Belief me, I'll take care of that. She has been getting on my nerves for too many years now."

Hermione felt a wave of relief and concentrated very hard not to let it show on her face. If Voldemort gave her to Snape she should be save at least for the moment.

"My Lord," suddenly another voice cut in. It was Draco's, and he was looking very nervous.

"Yes, Draco," Voldemort said with a slightly annoyed undertone and Hermione saw the young man gulp.

"Give her to me, my lord."

Voldemort chuckled. "How interesting." He turned towards Hermione again. "It seems that you're very much in demand."

Hermione felt as if her heart cramped together. If Draco got her there was no way of knowing what he'd do to her.

"And why should I give her to you?" Voldemort asked Draco, his long spidery fingers tapping on the armrest of his chair.

Draco's face was still very white, but set now. "Because I want her," he snarled. "She has been taunting me for many years, always hiding behind her friends. She can't hide now."

"My Lord," Snape's dispassionate voice cut in again. "Certainly the petty revenge of an untried schoolboy," he sneered in Draco's direction who got red with fury, "shouldn't take precedence over my claim."

Voldemort looked from Snape to Draco, a calculating look on his face. "I'm sorry, Draco," he finally said, "but Severus has served me very well in the past. He deserves a…gift."

Draco looked as if he wanted to contradict but Lucius caught his arm and squeezed it warningly, and so he stayed silent.

"Well then, Severus," Voldemort said, "take her to the dungeons. And don't linger there too long," he smiled unpleasantly, "we have things to discuss."

Snape inclined his head. "My Lord," he said and went towards Hermione. "Get up," he ordered coldly, and when she couldn't stand up on her own he hoisted her to her feet rather roughly and dragged her towards the door where the other Death Eater had left with Neville and McGonagall.

* * *

_More next week ;-)._


	25. In the lion's den

**In the lion's den**

Hermione heaved a sigh of relief when they had left the room but Snape was still dragging her along roughly and she was hardly able to walk with her aching body. When she suddenly stumbled and fell down he bent over her, shouting at her to get up, but also whispering "we can't talk here."

Slowly she stood up again and was once more dragged along by him through endless corridors. When finally she stumbled again and couldn't hide a gasp of pain, he gave an exasperated sigh and gathered her up in his arms.

"Let go of me," she shouted, hammering her fists against his breast and trying to wriggle out of his grasp.

"If you don't be still I'll crucio you until you loose your mind," he hissed and she immediately stopped trying to get out of his arms. This show of mutual dislike would hopefully have convinced all watchers and listeners. Pretending to be defeated, Hermione buried her face at Snape's breast, her cheek resting against the soft and warm fabric of his robes, and for the first time since she had touched the Portkey she allowed herself to relax. Her body still hurt like mad but being carried by him felt like heaven.

She didn't know how long he carried her through various corridors and down long flights of steps, but it ended all too soon in a dark and cold dungeon. Snape put her down rather roughly, then opened a heavy door, cast _Lumos_ and shoved her into a cell. Hermione looked around, saw the stone floor and walls, the old and rather moldy straw mattress in one corner and the chains at on wall and murmured "Why do Death Eater dungeons look as if they come out of a bad fantasy film?"

When she looked at Snape she saw a small smile tuck at his lips and a strange expression in his eyes. He turned around, shut the door and cast several protective spells. Only then did he turn towards her again. "It's save to speak now," he said. "How are you feeling?"

Hermione grimaced. "Rather terrible, to be honest."

"No wonder," he snorted. "This will ease the pain a bit," and he cast three spells which washed over Hermione with a pleasant tingling sensation, taking away some of the worst pain.

"Thank you," she said, gingerly flexing her fingers.

"Just don't show it if anyone comes," he grunted.

Hermione looked at him, taking in his drawn face and the new lines around his mouth. "It's good to see you," she said softly.

He snorted, "I can't say the same." There was anger and anxiety in his voice. "By Merlin, Hermione, how could you do something so stupid! Ever the Gryffindor, rushing into danger without thinking about the consequences." He hesitated, his face tense with worry. "You could die," he said very quietly.

Hermione drew herself up. "Give me some credit. Dumbledore and the others will be here shortly."

Snape relaxed visibly. "You used the Galleon?"

Hermione nodded. "I hid it when I came here."

"And you convinced the Dark Lord that you had abandoned it." There was respect in his voice. "You've done well."

She smiled at him. "I had a good teacher."

Snape furrowed his brow. "But why didn't you stay hidden until the others came to get you?"

Hermione shook her head, regretting it immediately when a shot of pain struck through it and the room began to sway. "I couldn't risk that they interrogated Minerva and Neville. Voldemort might have found out about Micaelus's ritual and then your position might have been endangered as well."

Snape looked at her with an unreadable expression in his eyes, but Hermione could hardly see it since the world had started spinning again and she was concentrating very hard not to collapse onto the floor.

"And so you decided to sacrifice yourself," he said very softly.

"I wouldn't say sacrifice," Hermione replied, still trying to get the world back into focus again. "It was the only logical solution." She hesitated. "I'm sorry, I think I'll have to sit down," and she took a step towards the mattress but somehow her legs gave way under her and she couldn't hold herself upright any longer.

Snape was at her side in the blink of an eye, catching her from falling, holding her up in an awkward embrace. Hermione laid her head against his shoulder. It felt so good just to be held, to close her eyes and to shut out the spinning world.

"You stupid, brave Gryffindor," he whispered against her hair, his voice catching.

"I'm not stupid," she murmured into the cloth of his gown.

"No," he conceded, "I guess you're not." He absentmindedly stroked her back, his chin resting on the top of her head. "You gave me quite a shock when you turned up so shortly after Minerva and Neville."

Hermione suddenly felt guilty. What was she doing getting comfortable with Snape when her friends might be in grave danger? "How are they?" she asked worriedly, pulling away a little to look up into his face, but at the same time tentatively putting her arms on his shoulders to hold herself upright.

Snape furrowed his brow and for a second Hermione thought that it was because of her touch. But then he said "You really should sit down," and cast a cleansing spell on the mattress. He led her to it and she sunk onto it with a sigh of relief while he sat down beside her.

"Minerva and Neville are fine as far as I can tell," Snape went on. "They were both severely hit, and it'll take some time until they wake up, but they should be unharmed, more or less."

"Are they down here?"

He nodded. "Yes, in two of the cells further down the corridor."

"Why didn't Voldemort revive them immediately?" Hermione asked.

"He wanted to," Snape replied, "but first he emphatically told Lucius and Bellatrix how little impressed he was by their little adventure, and then you showed up. He has to leave soon to meet someone and thus he postponed interrogating them until he returns."

"So he won't be here when the Order comes?" Hermione was glad for it, it'd certainly make their rescue much easier.

Snape shook his head. "Probably not."

"What do you think, how long will it take Dumbledore to come here?"

He thought for a moment, then said, "The house is heavily guarded. It's an old country retreat of the Malfoys' and it'll take even Dumbledore some time to overcome the wards. But I think they should come within the next hour."

Snape looked at her in silence for a few moments and Hermione wondered if he felt as awkward as she did. When they had said good bye at Hogwarts they had as much as proclaimed their attraction to each other. But nothing definite had been said and she had been wondering all the time how he'd react when they met again. Now certainly wasn't the time to discuss their relationship but Hermione didn't want to leave him doubting her feelings. And so she reached out with her left hand and laid it softly over his right hand. Snape didn't meet her eyes but looked down on their hands in silence for a while. Hermione felt terribly nervous, but when he looked up again the harshness of his features was softened. It seemed that he as well had come to a decision and he extricated his hand from hers, reached out with his arm and drew her to him until her head rested on his shoulder. Hermione smiled, a strong feeling of happiness spreading through her body, and took his other hand into hers.

"Believe me, I was getting truly nervous when Bellatrix and Lucius brought Minerva and Neville," Snape said quietly, holding her close. "I was thinking of all kinds of ways in which I might be able to prevent them from betraying our secrets, and I knew that there hardly were any." He paused. "I wondered if I'd eventually have to kill them to keep the Dark Lord from finding out our plan." He shivered and Hermione, who likewise trembled at that thought, pressed his hand encouragingly. "And then the screaming started outside, and when I got out I saw you fighting four Death Eaters." He was stroking her hair now, very tentatively, and Hermione turned her head a little to lean into his touch. "You brave, stupid Gryffindor," he whispered. "It nearly stopped my heart to see you there. And when you were brought before the Dark Lord and he tortured you I..."

He broke off and Hermione pressed his hand, her heart fluttering with the words he had said. "Don't worry, I'll be all right," she said, trying to convey more certainty than she really felt. "But what was that about Draco?" she shivered. "Why did he want me?"

Snape shook his head. "I don't know. Either he truly wanted to…possess you, or he wanted to help you, to prevent me from hurting you. But I couldn't take that chance."

"I'm glad you didn't," Hermione said. They sat in silence for a few minutes, but after a while he stopped stroking her hair and she turned her head to see what was the matter. Snape looked at her very seriously. "When the others come to get you I'll have to fight them."

"I know," she said quietly. "Just don't let yourself get killed."

He nodded and started to rummage in his robes, finally drawing out a small, silvery dagger in a dark leather sheath. "Take this," he said, giving her the dagger. "It's not much, but if anyone should try to harm you, you can at least defend yourself." He didn't say anything about Draco, but Hermione understood him well enough.

"Thank you," she said, trying to sound less worried than she actually was. "I'll be all right." Suddenly she gave him a mischievous smile. "Severus, if Voldemort wants to get into the Hogwarts library vaults, don't try to dissuade him."

He raised an eyebrow. "What have you done?"

Her mouth twitched. "I think it's better if you don't know."

Now he looked truly curious. "I take it Dumbledore will inform me in time?"

Hermione nodded. "I should think so. Just try to make sure that Voldemort doesn't come tonight, we'll need some time to prepare." She hesitated. "If everything goes according to plan this might soon be over."

"I won't be sorry if it is," Snape said quietly. Their eyes locked, but neither of them said what that might mean for them. Finally he gently brushing a stray curl out of her face. "I have to go now."

She wanted to tell him that she didn't want him to go, that he should stay, but she only nodded. "Take care," Hermione said softly, a lump in her throat.

"You as well." His dark eyes held hers for a few seconds, questioning her silently, doubt and hope for once visible in them. Then he hesitantly reached up to touch her face. His long, cool fingers traced the line of her cheek, his eyes studying her features as if trying to commit them to memory. Suddenly he bent down and kissed her, tentatively at first, but deeper and stronger when she opened her lips.

It ended all too soon. He softly pulled back from her, something like wonder in his eyes.

"Thank you," Hermione said quietly, her mind whirling with what had just happened.

He laughed softly, shaking his head a little. "I should thank you. Good bye. And good luck."

He got up and went to the door, but before he opened it Hermione called out to him. "Severus," she said, still breathless from the kiss, but knowing that she had to say this. "Will you remember the promise you gave me at Stella's wedding? If needs be?"

His face grew tense, but then he nodded. "I will, but it won't come to that."

"No, it hopefully won't. I'll see you soon."

"You will." And he left.

He took the light with him and Hermione was left in utter darkness, staring in the direction of the door which had closed behind him, a great smile on her face. Her body was still hurting and she was worried about her friends and herself, but right now she was happy. This wasn't the time to get all romantic, however, and so after a few minutes she hid the dagger in her robes and tried to think of what to do next.

Unfortunately there was really nothing she could do apart from waiting. She hated sitting in the dark, locked up like she had been when she'd been kidnapped. The minutes seemed to drag on forever, and after a while Hermione got increasingly worried. What if her Patronus hadn't reached Dumbledore? What if her coin didn't work, or had been discovered by the Death Eaters? Had she done something terribly foolish in rushing after Neville and McGonagall? It was very much like Harry, wasn't it? She'd always been the one to caution him against such rash actions, and now she herself had done something very similar. But it had been the only way, hadn't it? If she hadn't followed the Death Eaters, her friends wouldn't know where to look for Neville and McGonagall. Voldemort might have found out about their plan and Snape might have been in danger. She only hoped that Dumbledore would come soon.

Her worried thoughts were broken when the door suddenly opened and a blinding flash of light pierced the darkness in her cell. Squinting her eyes against it, her right hand wrapped around the small dagger hidden in her robes, she suddenly discerned Draco standing in the doorway. Hermione scrambled up, ignoring the protest of her hurting body, and leaned against the rough stone wall for support and protection.

"What do you want?" she said, trying to sound more self-assured than she felt.

Draco slowly stepped into the cell, shut the door behind him and came towards her, stopping when he was about five feet away from her. Hermione stared at him wearily, her heart pounding like mad. She had to fight the urge to draw the dagger, but it wouldn't help her if she revealed it too soon. Draco's face wore a strange expression, not the triumphant leer Hermione had expected, but a tense determination.

"I won't harm you," he suddenly said, showing her his empty hands. He looked her up and down searchingly. "Are you okay?"

Hermione stared at him. "What are you playing at, Malfoy," she said as coldly as she could.

His face closed up. "I'm trying to help you," he hissed. "But it's obviously not a good idea."

She scrutinized his face, trying to discern if he was making a cruel jest. He was obviously perturbed, but she didn't know how to interpret his expression. Finally Hermione reached a decision. She wouldn't let down her guard, but she would listen to what he had to say.

"All right," she said, "I don't trust you, but since I hardly have a choice let's just pretend that you really want to help me."

His mouth twisted in a sneer early reminiscent of Snape's, but he nodded. "Then let's start again. How are you feeling?"

Mindful that he mustn't know that Snape had cast some pain-removing spells on her, Hermione tried to look as bad as she had felt after they had cast _Crucio_ on her. "I've felt better," she said with a grimace.

He nodded and reached for his wand. Hermione froze, but he said, "don't worry, I won't harm you," and cast another pain-reducing spell.

A pleasant tinkling sensation washed over her, numbing the pain she was still feeling. "Thank you," Hermione said slowly, relaxing a little.

Draco nodded. Suddenly a strange expression flitted across his face. "Has Snape treated you…alright?" he asked.

Hermione had to hide a smile. "Yes, he has. He hasn't hurt me – or raped me, if that's what you mean."

Draco flinched and looked away. "I'm sorry I couldn't prevent him from…claiming you," he said haltingly. "And…and I'm sorry about your parents." Suddenly his head jerked up again and he stepped towards her, reaching into his robes at the same time.

Hermione shrank away, her hand clasping the dagger, but there was nowhere to run. Draco stopped right in front of her, closer than he'd ever been to her, and she could hear his quick, nervous breathing and see the tenseness of his jaw.

"Take this," he said, thrusting a small package into her left hand.

Hermione looked into his light blue eyes which were full of some unreadable emotion. After a few moments she let go of the hidden dagger and drew her right hand from her robes to open the package. It revealed something which looked like a small kitchen knife. She stared at it and suddenly had to stifle a laugh.

"Thank you," she said, meeting his gaze. "Why are you doing this?"

His face closed up again. "That's none of your concern, Granger," he said coldly.

"You don't like what he's doing, do you?" she stated, studying his face.

"I'll go now," he said, backing away from her and turning towards the door.

"You know they'll kill us," she went on, trying to make him stay. "Me and Neville and McGonagall. They'll torture us for their entertainment and then they'll kill us."

He had halted, his back to her. "There's nothing I can do," he said so quietly that she could hardly hear it.

"There always is," she said softly. "Listen, I know you don't want to betray your parents. I… I can understand that. But that doesn't mean you have to be a part of this. You could leave Voldemort, you could go to Dumbledore. He'll help you. He'd be so happy if you came…"

Draco shook his head jerkingly, never turning to face her. "I'm sorry, Granger," he said in a flat voice. "Good luck." And he hurried out of the room and left her in darkness again.

Shaken by her conversation with Draco, Hermione sank down on the mattress again. She chuckled a little when she carefully stashed his knife away. It was touching to have two men worrying about her. Draco… She'd never have expected him to act like that, but it gave her hope. Perhaps he might decide to leave Voldemort, perhaps there was still hope for him. Snape had to know about this, he might be able to help him.

Time passed and it seemed to Hermione that she waited for hours, staring into the pitch-black darkness of her cell. Her muggle-watch didn't have light and so she had no chance of knowing how much time really elapsed. She lay down a little, to gather the strength she'd need when her friends finally came, but the longer she waited the more worried she got. Where were they? Why weren't they already there? What if they had tried to get in, but had been defeated? What if they were all dead? Pictures of her friends as corpses suddenly filled Hermione's mind, of Dumbledore, Lupin, Ron and Harry. She shivered. If this happened it would be her fault, she had led them to this place, hadn't she? _Get yourself together_, she thought angrily, trying to calm herself. _After all you've survived Voldemort_._It'll help no one if you get all panicky now. You just don't like waiting_. She got up and walked around a little, careful not to bump into the walls, trying to loosen her limbs and joints. Her body was still stiff and hurt, but thanks to the spells performed on her by Snape and Malfoy she would be able to walk without problems.

After a while she sat down on the mattress again, waiting, her ears pricked not to miss any hints of a disturbance. But the thick walls and wooden door made it virtually impossible to hear anything from outside.

Suddenly someone banged against the door and Hermione started up, grabbing Snape's dagger.

"Hermione?" she heard a muffled voice, "are you in there? It's Remus."

Her face broke into a wide smile and she shouted, "I'm here, get me out!"

After a few seconds the door suddenly burst open and blinding light flooded the room. Hermione was still blinking her eyes, trying to accustom them to the light, when she was drawn into an embrace.

"Are you alright?" Lupin asked her worriedly. "Can you walk?"

Hermione nodded. "Don't worry. So you were able to break in?"

"Yes, we got your message and set out immediately. Unfortunately the house is very well shielded, that's why it took us so long." He looked at her seriously. "Well done, Hermione, even though we were sick with worry about you. Do you know where Neville and Minerva are?"

"As far as I know they should be in the cells further down the corridors. But they're probably still unconscious."

Lupin went back to the entrance of the cell and shouted "Tonks, check the cells further down the corridor," before returning to Hermione. Rummaging in his robes, he pulled out four wands. "We took them from Death Eaters. Try if one works for you."

Hermione tried the four wands and although none of them worked as well as her own, one of them would do. Wryly she thought that once again she'd have to go to Olivander and buy a new wand – she really should stop losing them at this frequency. But at least she wasn't without defense any more.

"I've found them!" Tonks suddenly shouted from outside and Lupin and Hermione left the cell to join her.

"Wotcher Hermione," Tonks said with a relieved smile. "You're alright?"

Hermione nodded and looked into two cells where she could see the still forms of Neville and McGonagall lying on the bare stone floor. Lupin looked at them worriedly. "Have they been unconscious ever since they were brought here?"

"I think so," Hermione replied.

Lupin sighed. "I don't like reviving them forcefully, but it'd take too long to levitate them out of here. I just hope they'll be alright, Minerva isn't the youngest after all."

Pointing his wand, he performed a series of spells. It took their friends a worryingly long time to revive, but after a few minutes they seemed to be alright, if rather confused to find themselves in a bleak dungeon.

"What happened?" McGonagall asked in a croaking voice, screwing up her face in pain and massaging her temples.

"You were kidnapped by Malfoy and his friends and brought to Voldemort," Hermione explained. She shot a glance at Tonks and saw that, while Lupin and she had been focused on Neville and McGonagall, the young auror had pulled out her fake Galleon and bewitched it to tell the other members of the Order that McGonagall, Neville and Hermione had been found and that they could retreat now.

Lupin meanwhile performed a few further charms to ease the unpleasant effects that McGonagall and Neville were obviously experiencing. "Can you get up and walk?" he asked. "We have to get out of here." Slowly McGonagall and Neville staggered to their feet. After a few more spells they were able to walk, and after they as well had been provided with wands they left the dungeon.

They didn't meet anyone while they were hurrying through the dark corridors and Lupin told them that, once they had been able to overcome the elaborate wards which shielded the mansion, they had hardly met any resistance. Following him, they went on through the house and Hermione was glad that Lupin obviously had an infallible sense of direction. She'd got lost long ago.

They were walking down another long hallway, the dusty floor covered with thick carpet which muffled their footsteps, when suddenly a door to their right burst open and Lucius and Snape came out. Hermione's heart skipped a beat, but then she quickly cast a protective spell and aimed a stunner at Lucius. He yelled spells extremely quickly, but he had no chance against five of them and soon sank down, stupefied and defenceless.

Snape on the other hand cast only defensive spells and instead of helping Lucius or running away he came straight at them, straight towards Hermione. She stared at him in shock, not knowing why he was doing that, why he was endangering himself like that.

Dodging spells cast by Lupin and Tonks, he moved so fast that he was at Hermione's side before the others could realize what was going on. Grabbing her roughly, he drew her towards him, pointed his wand at her throat and yelled "Lower your wands or she dies!"

The others looked at him in shock but finally lowered their wands.

"Severus," Lupin said, his voice full of anger and disdain. "So now you hide behind a girl to save your life? Was it not enough to murder her parents?" He waited for a reaction, but got none. "Let her go… please."

Snape laughed mirthlessly. "So that you can overwhelm me and bring me to Dumbledore? I don't think so."

"Severus, please," McGonagall said. There was no anger in her voice, only pain, and Hermione could feel Snape's body grow tense beside her. "I know you're not all bad. Please let her go. Or do you want us all to die here?"

"It's none of my concerns if you die or not," he replied in a cold and pressed voice, and Hermione saw McGonagall wince as if she had been slapped. "Now these are my conditions. You go down that corridor and turn around the corner while I and Miss Granger go down the other way. When you've turned the corner I'll release her and no one will have to die."

Lupin stared at him but finally nodded. Hermione knew that they couldn't tarry long, and that was the only way to end this deadlock. "How do we know that you'll keep your promise?" he asked. "You don't have a good record in it."

"I'm afraid you'll just have to trust me," Snape snarled. "Now go."

Reluctantly her friends went down the corridor, constantly glancing back while Snape dragged her backwards in the other direction.

"I'm sorry," he whispered in her ear, "but that was the only way. Otherwise they'd hurt or overwhelmed me."

"I know," Hermione replied.

Snape stopped when he saw the others turning around the corner. "Take care," he whispered softly. "Now go, they're waiting."

Hermione held his gaze for a second. "I'll see you soon," she said, turned and ran down the corridor. When she looked back after a few steps Snape had vanished. Turning around again she saw her friends coming towards her.

They looked extremely relieved but Lupin cut short all discussions, reminding them that they should try to get out of the house as fast as possible. They made their way through the mansion without further interruptions and Hermione heaved a great sigh when they reached the entrance hall where the Portkey had taken her and stepped outside.

Lupin led them through a large but neglected garden to a copse of trees where they found Dumbledore, Flitwick, Luna, Padma, Sprout, Moody, Bill, Fleur, Ron and Harry waiting for them. They were greeted with wide smiles, embraces and eager questions. Hermione and Neville were immediately surrounded by Ron, Harry and Luna while Dumbledore hugged McGonagall in a rare show of affection which brought a smile to Hermione's face.

"I'm afraid we have to save our questions for later," Dumbledore's booming voice finally cut in. "Let's get back first," and he disapparated. The others followed his lead and in a second Hermione found herself back again in the Hogwarts grounds.


	26. A touch of Harry in the night

**A touch of Harry in the night**

When they had apparated in the Hogwarts grounds, Hermione turned towards Dumbledore. "I've something important to tell you," she said, "and I guess it's better if all here know it as soon as possible."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow questioningly, then nodded. "This is a good a place as any," he said, "please go on."

Hermione turned to her friends who had followed her exchange with Dumbledore and were now looking at her enquiringly. "When I was caught I was interrogated by Voldemort," she said calmly, ignoring the shock that registered on their faces. "Don't worry, I'm alright. But when I was there I thought that I could try to use the situation and Voldemort's Legilimency to our advantage. You know that our great problem is how to lure him to a place where we can perform the ritual on him. I thought if he read my thoughts and I'd show him a place he'd really be interested in then he'd come to this place. And then I recalled something Remus told me not long ago." She grinned at Lupin. "You remember when you said to me that for some time you thought that the secret library vault might contain the fabled Hogwarts hub? Well, I showed Voldemort just that. I showed him that we recently discovered that the reason why the vault was hidden is that within lies the access to a power source of indescribable potency."

There was silence for a few moments. Then Dumbledore chuckled. "A very clever idea, Hermione," he said. "If he believed you he'll be eager to get into the vault and try if he can use the power of the hub for himself. And it's a good place, we can close off the corridors which lead down to the library vaults and thereby control who gets in. But we should set up guards immediately, Voldemort might even now try to get into it."

"I don't think so," Hermione said, shaking her head. "As far as I know he wanted to meet someone tonight. But of course we never know, so I thought I should tell you as soon as possible."

Dumbledore nodded in agreement and suddenly everyone started talking, discussing what they should do now. Harry grinned at her. "Well done, Hermione. If this works out we really owe you something."

"But there still remains the problem of how we hold Voldemort once we get him down there," Lupin cut in.

Dumbledore shook his head. "Leave that to me. He won't be able to defend himself against the ritual."

Hermione shot him a curious glance, wondering how Dumbledore wanted to hold one of the most powerful wizards of all time, and Lupin and McGonagall looked doubtful as well. Dumbledore however ignored all further inquiries and set out for the castle at a brisk pace.

When they arrived there they set up a preliminary plan of what to do if Voldemort decided to attempt the vault that night. After the guards for the first shift had been chosen, all dispersed and Neville and McGonagall made for the hospital wing. Hermione wanted to follow them since the charms that Snape and Draco had performed on her were losing their potency and her body ached increasingly. But Dumbledore asked her to stay a bit longer and when the others had left inquired about Snape.

"I'll inform him of our plans immediately," he said when she had finished. "I guess he was rather worried when he saw you, Neville and Minerva there."

"He was," Hermione said, uncomfortably aware of the knowing smile that Dumbledore gave her. "There's something else," she said to divert his attention. "Draco came to help me. He gave me this to defend myself." She drew out Draco's knife and showed it to Dumbledore. "I tried to persuade him to leave Voldemort, but he said he couldn't do that. Still, I think he might eventually decide to leave him, and I told him that he should go to you if he needs help."

Dumbledore beamed at her. "These are good news. Let's hope that Draco chooses the right path. Well, I've kept you long enough, you should go and see Poppy now." Suddenly his eyes softened. "You were very brave, Hermione," he said solemnly, and she felt herself blush. "I know it wasn't easy to face Voldemort. You've acted like a true Gryffindor and I'm very proud of you."

Hermione felt like a twelve-year-old under his grandfatherly smile. "It was the only thing I could do," she said, shrugging her shoulders. "And I was lucky that everything worked out and you came to rescue us. I only hope that It wasn't a great mistake to try and lure Voldemort here."

Dumbledore shook his head. "It was a good idea and we'll have to wait and see how it turns out. Good night, Hermione."

"Good night, Albus."

Hermione left and went to the hospital wing where Madame Pomfrey gave her several unpleasant potions to drink. Afterwards most of the pain was gone and Hermione just felt very tired. She went to her rooms and sunk down in an armchair with a loud sigh. Crookshanks came trotting towards her and leapt unto her lap, purring loudly and nudging her with his head. She stroked him and reassured him that she was alright, and then drew out Snape's dagger and Draco's knife, turning them in her hands. The memory of Snape's kiss came into her mind and she smiled happily. Finally she put the knives away, gathered up Crookshanks and went to bed.

**...**

Right after breakfast the next day Hermione, Neville and McGonagall went to Diagon Alley to buy new wands. All three were still suffering from the aftermath of what had happened the night before and walked through the Hogwarts grounds rather stiffly and more slowly than usually.

When they entered Olivander's shop he gave Hermione a rather suspicious look, but McGonagall told him that there had been an accident with a charms experiment and although he didn't really look convinced he didn't say anything. This time it took rather long until Hermione found a suitable wand and she just hoped that she would be able to keep it longer than the last one.

They went back immediately, worrying that in their absence Voldemort might have attempted to break into Hogwarts. But nothing had happened, and nothing did happen for the rest of the day. They had agreed on a plan and everyone knew what he or she would have to do if Voldemort should come, but for now they could only wait.

In the evening Hermione asked Dumbledore if he'd had any news from Snape and he replied that Snape had told him that Voldemort was actually very interested in the vault. Unfortunately he hadn't yet told Snape if and when he'd try to get into it. So all they could do was wait.

"I really hope something happens soon," Hermione thought at breakfast the following morning. The tension was nearly graspable and especially McGonagall seemed uncommonly troubled. With a stab of worry Hermione thought that she looked as if she had been crying, but Hermione didn't know why that should be the case.

Nothing happened all day long, but in the afternoon Dumbledore called Hermione and she was glad for whatever diversion he had in store for her.

"Hermione, dear, could you do me a favour?" Dumbledore said when she came into his office, smiling at her.

"Of course, what is it?"

Dumbledore's smile widened. "It seems that Draco has finally decided to leave Voldemort."

Hermione couldn't quite suppress a surprised gasp. "Really? I'm glad," she said. She had thought about Draco a lot since he had given her the knife and now she felt truly relieved. "But are you sure that it isn't a trick?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "Not yet, but after all you and Severus told me I think it's unlikely. But I'll have to talk to him to be sure. And that's where you come in. Would you pick him up and bring him to me? He'll apparate to the large oak at the lake's shore just outside the wards."

"Sure," Hermione said, "when is he coming?"

"At half past five."

"I'll be there."

When about an hour later Hermione walked through the grounds to the place where Draco would apparate, she was wondering why Dumbledore had sent her and not gone himself. It seemed that he wanted her to meet Draco, perhaps because he thought that she had some kind of influence on him.

Hermione snorted. If someone had told her a few months ago that she'd be wondering about Draco's feelings for her, or even worry about him, she'd thought him nuts. Things definitely had changed. She certainly didn't like Draco and she didn't know if she ever would. He had been an arrogant and cruel snob, and no doubt about that. But she had to admit that with his background that was hardly surprising. Being the son of Lucius Malfoy and the pride of Slytherin certainly hadn't helped forming a more amiable character.

When she arrived at the oak tree about five minutes before Draco was expected, she sat down beneath it, leaning against its trunk and looking out over the lake. The weather was beautiful but with all the tension and excitement Hermione and her friends hardly noticed it anymore. Normal life was suspended until the final confrontation. _In fact_, Hermione thought sarcastically, _normal life has been suspended for so many years now. It will be strange to get back to it – I'm wondering what it will feel like_. It was Neville's birthday today, and would be Harry's tomorrow, but no one really felt much like celebrating.

The characteristic sound of someone apparating broke Hermione's train of thought and made her get up. Draco had appeared a few feet from her, his wand at the ready. As soon as he spotted her his face tensed and he pointed his wand at her.

"What are you doing here, Granger?" he snarled.

_Brilliant_, Hermione thought, _his is going really well_. She showed him her empty hands and said calmly "Hi Draco. Dumbledore sent me to pick you up."

He looked at her suspiciously. Eventually he lowered his wand but didn't tuck it away. "I thought he'd come himself," he said rather accusingly.

Hermione shrugged her shoulders. "Don't ask me about his intentions. Now are you coming or not?"

Draco hesitated a few moments, then started to walk towards the castle at a rather brisk speed so that Hermione had to hurry to keep up. When they had walked in silence for a few minutes he suddenly stopped and faced Hermione.

"You must have thought me a real fool," he said, anger in his voice.

Hermione looked at him blankly. "What? What are you talking about?"

His face was tense, if with anger or something else Hermione couldn't divine. "You know what I mean," he snarled. "I'm talking about me giving you that knife, and you asking me to help you and the others when probably all the time you knew that your friends would come to rescue you anyway."

Hermione felt irritated. "Listen, it wasn't as if I was there just for fun," she said in a pressed voice. "I hoped that my friends would come, but it was not certain." She paused, holding his gaze. "I meant what I said to you. And I was truly grateful for your help."

His mouth twitched but otherwise his face remained stony. Suddenly his eyes narrowed to slits. "Why should I believe you?" he snarled. "After all you're very good at dissembling, Granger. Nearly as good as Snape."

So it seemed that Snape had revealed his true allegiances to Draco. Hermione felt worried, but she had to trust that Snape knew what he was doing. Or was this just a trick of Draco to draw her out, to find out about Snape? Trying to keep her face blank she said, "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Draco scrutinized her for a few moments and finally his tension and anger seemed to lessen. He inclined his head a little, a sarcastic smile on his face. "Very well. Don't worry, your secrets are safe with me. Now shall we go?"

Hermione nodded and they went on. "I'm glad you've decided to leave Voldemort," she said after a few minutes of silence.

Darco slowed down a bit but didn't say anything. Hermione shot him a glance from the side, but his face was tense and unreadable again.

"He was very angry," Draco suddenly said. "When he came back and you were gone. Very angry."

Hermione shivered. She could imagine how Voldemort had expressed his anger and suddenly worried about Snape. Had he been punished, too? She wanted to ask Draco, but then decided against it.

"I won't help you fight him. I won't fight against my parents," Draco went on, his voice suddenly raw with emotion, "but neither do I want to be a part of this any longer."

He looked very weary now and far older than he actually was. Suddenly Hermione wondered what he had seen and experienced to make him change his mind and she shivered. "What will you do now?" she asked, surprised at how soft her voice was.

Draco shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. Depends on what Dumbledore says. I guess I'll go abroad for as long as this will take."

He looked at Hermione and grimaced. "I hope Potter hurries up a little. I don't want to stay hidden for years."

She gave him a wry smile. "Believe me, we're doing our best."

They entered the castle and Draco stopped in the entrance hall to look around, an unconscious smile on his face. Hermione felt strangely touched. Hogwarts was as much home for him as it was for her. She brought him to Dumbledore's office where the headmaster greeted him with open arms and lemon drops. Then she made to leave.

"Good luck," she said, holding his gaze. "And thanks again."

He suddenly looked rather self-conscious. "I… I'm glad you're alright. And good luck to you as well."

**...**

The next day passed once again in waiting for something which didn't happen. While there had been an atmosphere of tense but hopeful excitement after Hermione had told her friends what she had shown Voldemort, by now the enthusiasm had nearly vanished and only the tension remained. This was furthered when at lunch they got the news that Kingsley Shacklebolt and his whole family had been killed by Death Eaters the night before. There had also been an attempt on Moody's life, but he had escaped unscathed.

Hermione had known Shacklebolt only fleetingly but was nevertheless deeply shaken. "Do you think it might have been in retaliation for our escape?" she asked Lupin.

He shrugged his shoulders. "It is possible." He looked at her searchingly. "But you know it isn't your fault, do you?"

Hermione nodded but felt a cold lump in her chest. She was still confident that the war would be over soon, but this was increasingly overshadowed by worries. Even if their plan worked it was still dangerous and people might get hurt or killed. Somehow Hermione had been able to repress this knowledge more or less until now, but after what had happened to Shacklebolt she couldn't ignore it any longer. She was especially worried for Harry and Snape who probably would be most exposed. All throughout the day Hermione tried not to think about what it would be like to lose them but couldn't keep her mind from the thought that they or someone else of her friends might die.

Harry, Ron, Ginny and Tonks came in the evening to celebrate Harry's and Neville's birthday. On her way to Neville's quarters where the party would take place Hermione met Tonks, sporting unfamiliar flaming red hair and a tense face.

"Is anything the matter?" Hermione asked, worried that something had happened.

Tonks shook her head, her mouth pressed tightly. "Don't worry, it's nothing."

Hermione looked at her doubtfully and after a few moments of silence Tonks heaved her shoulders in defeat. "Alright, it's not nothing, but it doesn't concern you." She hesitated. "I quarrelled with Remus."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Hermione said. During the last months she had alternately tried to convince Lupin that he should give in to his feelings, and encouraged Tonks not to give up on him, but she had no idea what the current status was.

Tonks snorted. "You should think that with the decision close at hand he'd be a bit less closed up, but whenever I try to help him or even just talk to him he rebuffs me." Suddenly the angry red of her hair changed into a drab gray. "And he's so worried," she said sadly. "He's worried that Harry will die, or I, or any of his friends. Or he himself. And I just want to help him but he keeps pushing me away."

Hermione didn't really know what to say. "I'm so sorry," she finally replied, looking at the young woman in front of her with a sympathetic expression in her eyes. "You are worried as well, are you not?"

"Of course I am," Tonks said quietly. "I know how it is – just look at what happened to Kingsley." She gulped. "As much as I hope that the decision will come at last, I know that some of us might not survive. And I don't want Remus to die." Suddenly her eyes were bright with tears. "I'm sorry," she said, shaking her head in embarrassment. "It's just this waiting and this constant tension. It's really getting to me."

"I know what you mean," Hermione replied. On a sudden impulse she hugged Tonks and held her close for a few seconds, the young auror returning her embrace. "Are you coming to Neville?" Hermione asked when she pulled back again.

Tonks nodded. "A bit later, I need some time to calm down." She gave Hermione a wobbly smile. "Thanks for listening to me. I'll see you there."

When Hermione arrived in Neville's quarters only he, Luna and Lupin were already there. She debated silently with herself, but finally went to Lupin and said quietly, "Could I talk to you for a second?"

He looked at her in surprise but then followed her to one of the large windows looking out over the grounds.

"I met Tonks on my way here," Hermione said carefully.

Lupin tensed and his face grew stony. "And?" he said rather guardedly.

Hermione sighed. "Look, she's really upset and worried. I know it's none of my business, and I wouldn't normally do that, but could you just let her get a bit...closer? She feels that you're pushing her away, and she's so sad about that and worried about you."

Lupin didn't meet her eyes but finally nodded. He suddenly looked old and tired. "I know," he said softly. "I'm just so worried about all of you, and about her... I... I don't want her to get hurt by getting closer to me and then perhaps losing me."

"I know," Hermione said, taking his hand and pressing it encouragingly. "But you're hurting her more if you keep pushing her away."

Lupin scrutinized her face. "I guess you're right," he finally said with a little smile. "I think I should go and talk to her."

Hermione beamed at him. "Do that," she said, feeling happier than she had all day long.

The birthday party which was also attended by Dumbledore and some of the teachers was probably the strangest birthday party Hermione had ever been to. Somehow she and probably the teachers as well had expected that it'd happen then, that for some illogical reason Voldemort would chose Harry's birthday to attempt to break into Hogwarts, but nothing happened. Hagrid tried to spread some cheer, but most of them were so focused on Voldemort and the murder of Shacklebolt and his family that it jarred uncomfortably. McGonagall in particular looked rather downcast again, and Hermione was feeling increasingly worried for her, wondering if she was suffering from her kidnapping by the Death Eaters far more than they had thought.

When all the presents had been given and they had gathered around the birthday cake, Dumbledore, who exuded cheerfulness in a way that was nearly frightening, held a short speech, closing with "Now brighten up, after all tonight is a reason to celebrate." They tried to muster up some cheer, but it seemed artificial and they soon returned to talking about what they'd do when Voldemort would finally come. In spite of Dumbledore's assurance that he'd make sure that Voldemort wouldn't fight the ritual, they were less than convinced that it'd work. Lupin, Flitwick and Ron were discussing the problem, from time to time throwing curious glances at Dumbledore who was talking to Hagrid not far from them.

Suddenly McGonagall, who had been sitting alone nearby and observed both groups, straightened up and her voice cut through the conversations. "Albus, please tell them. They need to know." She was looking at him with a strange look of sadness and defiance and Hermione, struck by her odd behaviour, glanced from her to Dumbledore.

"Minerva, please," he said, and for a moment his usual mask of invincible cheerfulness slipped and revealed weariness, tender affection and a deep sadness. Hermione suddenly felt strangely shy, as if she had seen something which she wasn't supposed to. Everyone had fallen silent and was now looking at Dumbledore, waiting for him to finally explain his plan.

After a few moments he sighed. "Well, it seems you have to know." Dumbledore hesitated and looked at them calmly, a small smile on his lips. "You don't have to worry about Voldemort because I will perform the _Coniunctio_1 charm to hold him."

Shocked silence greeted his words, and suddenly Hermione knew why McGonagall had seemed so troubled during the last days. She felt very cold and sad. The _Coniunctio_ charm was an extremely powerful spell with which a wizard could hold another wizard and drain him of his power. But it was very rarely used because to perform it the caster had to use not only his magical powers, but his life-force as well. All of his life-force. The spell always ended with the death of the caster.

After a moment of shocked silence Harry, Lupin and Flitwick started to protest and to argue with Dumbledore, but Hermione looked at him and knew that it was useless. He had known this for a long time, perhaps ever since the night she had shown him Micaelus's diary. Tears welled up inside her and she shot a quick glance at McGonagall who didn't watch the conversation but looked out through the windows into the night, her face still and sad. Hermione ached with pity for her. She still had no idea how close her former teacher and Dumbledore were or had once been, but McGonagall certainly cared deeply for him and was cruelly affected by the knowledge that he would die soon.

Dumbledore meanwhile brushed away all protests and suggestions for alternatives. "Believe me, I have thought about it for a very long time and there is no other way." His voice was still cheerful but now had a steely edge to it. "And I am more than willing to do it if it rids us of Tom once and for all. Unlike him I am not afraid of dying." He smiled but apart from him everyone else looked deeply unhappy. The party, which had hardly been cheerful to begin with, now was virtually over, a heavy feeling of sadness and despair weighing down on everyone. Within half an hour all guests had left.

Hermione went to her quarters but was so agitated she knew she wouldn't be able to sleep. After pacing around her rooms for some time she had the urge to get outside, out of the castle, and left. She met nobody on her way through the dark corridors but when she stepped out of the large entrance door she found Harry sitting on the top of the stairs, gazing out into the dark grounds.

"Hi Harry," she said softly. "Couldn't sleep?"

He gave her a sad smile. "Same as you, I guess."

She nodded and sat down beside him. She didn't feel much like talking and it seemed that Harry wasn't keen on it, either. But it felt good to have him beside her.

After they had sat there in silence for about five minutes Harry suddenly said, "I always thought I'd be the one who would have to die." He paused. "And now it seems it will be Dumbledore. And…" he hesitated, but then went on, "and I am strangely glad. Isn't that terrible?"

Hermione leant against him and laid her head on his shoulder. "No it isn't, it's natural. But I can understand that you feel guilty about it."

He took her hand and pressed it.

"It's terrible, about Dumbledore I mean," Hermione said after a few moments. "I can't even think about it."

"Yes." Harry said. "It's so strange, I really want this to be over as soon as possible, I can't stand the waiting any longer. But if that also means that Dumbledore will die…"

He didn't finish his sentence but Hermione understood him well enough and nodded. "It feels like a bad dream, doesn't it?" she said. "And I keep thinking that when I wake up tomorrow it will all be gone."

Harry laughed bitterly. "Yeah, that would be great." He shook his head. "All those years I only thought about defeating Voldemort and I never really thought about what would happen afterwards because, well, I didn't really think I'd survive…"

Hermione felt a stab of pain for Harry and pressed his hand.

"And now there might be a future," he went on. "I wonder what it will be like."

Suddenly Hermione had to think of another man who had never dared to make plans for a life after Voldemort because he thought that the fight against him would cost his life. And she felt so very sad about what the war demanded of Dumbledore, Harry and Snape that she couldn't help tears from welling up insider her.

"I don't want him to die," she said in a wobbly voice, not sure if she had meant Dumbledore or Snape.

Harry laid his arm around her shoulder. "Don't worry, Hermione," he said softly. "We'll be alright."

A harsh sob escaped her before she could stop it. "We thought that about Sirius as well, didn't we? And about Shacklebolt. And Fred and George. Face it, Harry, we don't know who will be alive when this is over. And I don't want to lose any more friends."

Harry's body had tensed when she had mentioned Sirius' name. "You are right," he said, his voice full of emotion, "we don't know. And trust me, I don't want to lose any more friends, either. But listen, we have to believe that we can make it, because if we don't, and if Dumbledore sacrifices his life in vain, I don't know what we'll do then."

Hermione only nodded, not trusting her voice. And then she cried silently because of all the pain that had been caused and would still be caused, and Harry held her close, his body tense with worry and his eyes fierce with determination and despair.

* * *

_Ten points to those who get the literary reference in the title ;-)._

_I know Dumbledore is now officially gay (great move J.K.R.!), but ever since I read the first book I had him paired off with McGonagall in my mind, and so he'll stay in this fic._

_As always thanks a lot for your kind comments! Only two more chapters…_

1 Coniunctio = lat. for conjunction, connection


	27. The End

_Merry Christmas to everyone! Enjoy the new chapter._

**The End**

The next two days passed in futile waiting and Hermione was beginning to doubt if Voldemort would ever come. Dumbledore hadn't heard anything from Snape and that worried her as well. What if Voldemort had found out that she had tricked him? What if he knew that Snape was deceiving him?

The only respite from the worries was provided by the defense training sessions which they had taken up with new motivation during the last days. They provided a welcome distraction and the possibility to release at least a bit of the pent up tension. That evening they had practiced until after 10 pm and afterwards Hermione had taken a shower and changed into a light nightdress. She was leaving her bathroom, heading for her bed when she suddenly stopped dead in her tracks.

"Hello Miss Granger," Lucius Malfoy drawled. He looked at her with an unpleasant smile and let his eyes travel up and down her body. Hermione made to rush towards the table where she had deposited her wand, but Malfoy's pointed wand stopped her. "Oh no," he hissed threateningly. He was sitting in one of her chairs, lounging there as if it were his, and pointed not only his wand at her, but also carelessly waved her own wand. "You see, Miss Granger, there's nothing you can do. You're in my power," his eyes assumed a menacing expression, "and this time I'll personally make sure that it stays that way."

Hermione stood rooted to the spot, cursing herself for being so stupid and letting her wand out of sight even for only a few minutes. Her heart was pounding. So this was it, the beginning of the end. She hadn't seen herself facing it wearing only her nightdress, but while a part of her was nervous and fearful, another was relieved that the decision was finally near.

"What do you want from me?" she asked, trying to appear as calm as possible.

"You'll help us get into the library vaults," Lucius replied. "There's a very special secret chamber there, isn't it?"

Hermione feigned surprise and shock at his words, and Lucius smiled triumphantly. "What is it?" he asked, his eagerness barely hidden.

"Voldemort didn't tell you?" Hermione retorted with pretended incredulousness.

A flicker of annoyance crossed Malfoy's face. "Never you mind," he snarled. "Just tell me what is down there, or I'll crucio you for a bit of fun."

Hermione stayed silent for a few moments, then said "It's the hub."

Lucius' pale eyes widened. "I see," he said slowly. "Very interesting."

"I guess you know that I alone cannot take you into the vault?" Hermione said.

Lucius, who had seemed lost in thoughts, concentrated on her again. "Of course," he snarled, "Severus told us." His mouth twitched, and Hermione was not sure if it was a sign of disdain, anger or something else. "He has been very helpful. We're just waiting for one of your colleagues who will help us get into the secret chamber."

In spite of Malfoy's presence, Hermione felt surprisingly calm. They had gone through this so often that now it actually happened it felt a bit unreal. She just wished she weren't so defenceless. There was no chance that she'd get back her wand, but perhaps she might be able to use something else? Looking around the room, her eyes fell on a cupboard which was standing just opposite to where Lucius was sitting. It was full of books, but on one shelf her eyes came to rest on a milky stone, the mahō ishi she had got out of the tree some weeks ago. If she could take it with her, it might prove a valuable distraction. But there was no way she could get it as long as Lucius was observing her like that. Still, a chance might present itself, and she had to try to use it if it did.

"If we're going down into the vaults I have to put something on," she said. "It's quite cold down there."

Malfoy shrugged his shoulders. "Go ahead. But you'll change here, in front of my eyes."

Hermione didn't like the way he was staring at her. "I have to get my clothes out of my bedroom."

"Well, go then," he said, got out of the chair and followed her to the door of her bedroom, his gaze never leaving her as she got a pair of jeans and a long sleeved shirt out of her wardrobe and pulled them over her short nightdress. There was no way she'd strip in front of him. Then she went back into her living room and made for her robes which were hanging over a chair just next to the cupboard.

"Wait," he said as she had pulled them on. "One false move and you're dead." He held his wand to her throat while with the other hand checking that nothing was hidden in her robes. His hand lingered uncomfortably close on her body and Hermione wanted very much to slap him, but all she could do was give him burning looks which only made him chuckle unpleasantly.

"Hermione," he said in a tone which sent shivers down her spine and made her take a step back. "Perhaps we could have a bit of fun later? If Severus doesn't claim you first? I have to admit it is a real shame that you're only a filthy mudblood – your strength would be a valuable addition to our course." He looked at her with a calculating look in his eyes. "Perhaps a bit of interbreeding wouldn't do much harm? Your talents and my family's reputation might produce an interesting mixture. And I should think Draco wouldn't be too adverse to it."

Hermione shivered. She looked at the elder man with burning loathing, surprised that he didn't know yet that Draco had left him forever. "This will never happen," she hissed.

Lucius only chuckled. "Well, we'll see."

They waited in silence for several minutes until suddenly someone knocked a complicated series of raps at the door.

"Stay right here and don't move," Lucius said sharply while he went towards the door and raised his wand to lift the spell with which it had obviously been locked. In spite of his order, Hermione inched closer to the cupboard until she was standing right next to the stone. She put her hands in the pocket of her robes and was glad to find a handkerchief folded there. Prying it open, she very much hoped it was large enough to grab the mahō ishi with it without directly touching the stone. She certainly wasn't keen on it exploding in her hand.

Lucius meanwhile had lifted the spell, all the time throwing suspicious glances in her direction and thereby making it impossible for her to grab the stone. He carefully opened the door and Hermione could see Flitwick outside, then suddenly an orange something flew at Lucius and clawed up his robes, hissing and scratching away at him. It was Crookshanks who seemed to have somehow sensed that Hermione was in danger and had come to her help. Hermione stood in shock for a moment, staring at Crookshanks and at Lucius who was trying to get rid of the wild cat. Then she realized that this was the only chance she'd get, took the handkerchief and with one swift move grabbed the mahō ishi and put it into her pocket. Luckily her robes were very wide and she hoped that nobody would notice that she was hiding something in them.

Meanwhile Flitwick had come into the room and the door had shut behind him. As soon as that was done, another man whom Hermione identified as Rudolphos Lestrange appeared from under a invisibility cloak. He looked at Lucius who was still fighting Crookshanks, obviously at a loss what to do. He could not aim a spell at the cat since it might just as easily hit Malfoy, but neither did he seem eager to join the fray. Finally Malfoy managed to get hold of Crookshanks' neck. Pointing his wand he yelled "Stupefy!" and then hurled the cat away.

Crookshanks hit the floor with a dump thud, lying there motionless. Hermione cried out and hurried towards him. He lay very still, but when she softly stroked his fur she thought she felt some breathing. Tears started into her eyes, but she knew there was nothing she could do now. She didn't even dare to pick him up and put him onto the sofa because she feared that he might have broken something.

"Leave that beast alone immediately," Lucius snarled, "or I'll kill it."

Hermione stroked Crookshanks one last time, then slowly got up and turned towards the others, staring at Malfoy with burning hatred in her eyes.

"Let's go," Lucius said imperiously and pulled another invisibility cloak out of his robes. "You'll take us down to the library vaults. If you try anything you'll die. Do you understand?"

Flitwick and Hermione both nodded reluctantly and after Malfoy and Lestrange had hidden under their cloaks they left Hermione's rooms and made for the corridor which would bring them down to the library vaults. They didn't meet anyone on their way there and Hermione felt very strange, walking along with Flitwick but knowing that right behind them were two Death Eaters. Flitwick's usually sunny temper had vanished and he looked very tense. They made one short attempt at rather forced small talk, but fell silent soon.

When they arrived at the entrance to the corridor, Hermione performed the spell to lift the wards which guarded it, trying very hard to keep her facial features under control and not to show the triumph she was feeling. The spell she had used had been designed not only to give them access to the corridor, but also to signal Dumbledore that the Death Eaters had arrived. Even now he'd call on the members of the Order to come to Hogwarts or to start performing the other duties they had been set for this occasion. After all those years of waiting, the game was finally afoot.

Now was also the time when Dumbledore would tell the Order that Snape was still on their side. Hermione winced inwardly as she tried to picture the others' reaction to this revelation, and their realization that she had been lying to them all the time. But she was glad that at least now they wouldn't try to kill Snape any longer.

As soon as they had entered the corridor and locked the door behind them, the two Death Eaters put away their invisibility cloaks. They had to pass another locked and warded door until they finally entered the library vaults, and when they arrived there Hermione was grateful for her warm robes. The mahō ishi bumped softly against her thigh but she hoped that nobody would notice that she was carrying something in her pockets. Hermione and Flitwick led the two Death Eaters through the halls and finally stopped in front of the book covered wall which hid the entrance to the secret vault. For a few moments Hermione and Flitwick pretended that they didn't want to give them access, but a few hissed threats by Malfoy silenced them soon. Flitwick performed the spell first, then Hermione did, and when she had finished the shelves vanished and revealed a small opening in the wall.

Flitwick whispered a spell and brilliant light lit up the secret vault. Hermione searched the room worriedly, heaving an internal sigh as she discovered no one. Ever since she had told Dumbledore and her friends what she had shown Voldemort, one of them had constantly been on duty down here, instructed to hide under Harry's invisibility cloak. If Voldemort had found another way to enter the vault, the guard's duty would have been to inform the Order. This wasn't necessary now, but he would provide a valuable element of surprise. Hermione tried to remember the schedule they had set up for this duty, and was pretty certain that it was Moody who was hiding under the cloak. Luckily he already knew that Snape was on their side and wouldn't try to kill him.

Malfoy and Lestrange looked around, the expressions on their faces showing that they were not impressed. "So that's it?" Lucius asked.

Hermione nodded. "That's it. What happens now?"

Lucius smiled unpleasantly. "Now we'll get company. Rudolphus, take care of them."

Lestrange gestured for Hermione to come closer and stand next to Flitwick while Malfoy rummaged in his robes. Now would have been a chance for Moody to surprise Lestrange and to free them, but they had to wait until Voldemort was here and until Dumbledore and the others arrived.

Malfoy seemed to have found what he had been looking for and pulled out a small mirror. Tapping it with his wand, he started to speak into it and Hermione realized it must be a means of communication just like the mirror that Sirius had once given to Harry.

"We are in the vault, my lord," Lucius said, "everything is prepared for you."

"Then we'll come," the ghostly and slightly distorted voice of Voldemort sounded from the mirror. "Set up the door now."

Malfoy tapped the mirror again and put it away. Instead he pulled out a strange frame which seemed to be made out of black and silver wire. He put it onto the floor and then enlarged it with his wand until it was as large as a doorframe. Hermione had never seen one of these, but she knew what it was. The frame and a corresponding second frame which would have been set up by Voldemort were able to open a passage between them. These frames were very rare and shunned by the wizarding community since they could only be created and used with the help of Dark Magic. Even with these frames, some of the Hogwarts wards would probably still have kept anyone away, but Dumbledore had made sure that Snape could tell Voldemort how to overcome them.

When the door had been set up to his satisfaction, Malfoy pulled out the mirror again. "We are ready," he said.

"Then cast the spell now," came the answer, and Malfoy as well as Voldemort on the other end started to incant a long charm in a strange language. It seemed to be very trying, Malfoy sweat profusely and his face was screwed up in concentration. Meanwhile the air within the doorframe became distorted in strange ways and finally formed into odd, floating shapes. Hermione grew dizzy from looking at it. When Malfoy finished after a few minutes, he staggered and was breathing hard. The doorframe now showed a whirling mass of shapes which suddenly broke as Peter Pettigrew staggered through it, his eyes wide with fear. Malfoy drew him roughly away from the door and now a succession of more Death Eaters came through until finally Voldemort appeared. When he had stepped on the floor of the vault, he carelessly flickered his wand and the whirling shapes within the doorframe disappeared. It shrank and Malfoy picked it up again.

There were twenty-one Death Eaters now, including Snape who gave Hermione only a cursory glance.

"Is this the right place, Severus?" Voldemort asked, looking around the vault.

"It is, my lord."

"Very well. You all know what you have to do," Voldemort said imperiously. "Severus, show them the way."

Snape bowed his head slightly, then left with sixteen Death Eaters. Apart from Voldemort only Lestrange, Bellatrix, Pettigrew, Avery and Malfoy remained in the vault.

Hermione was getting increasingly nervous and tense now. If everything went according to plan, by now her friends should have already entered the library vaults and hid there to let Snape and the Death Eaters pass. Snape had told them a few days ago that Voldemort's plan for his Death Eaters was to secure the castle and to stand guard over the entrance to the library vaults. Hermione fervently hoped that that hadn't changed and that Dumbledore and the others would arrive soon. She didn't want to be on the receiving end when Voldemort found out that he'd been tricked here under false pretence. As if he had heard her thoughts, Voldemort suddenly turned towards her.

"Miss Granger," he said very coldly. "You seem to have a propensity for wriggling out of my grasp. Not today, however." He smiled unpleasantly. "When this is over, the war will be over as well, and the only options left open for you will be either to become Severus' plaything or serve Bella as entertainment."

Bellatrix chuckled. "May I start now, my lord?" she said, a disturbing longing in her voice.

Voldemort gave Hermione a long look and she grew very cold. "No, Bella," he eventually said. "We have more pressing things to do now. Peter, Avery and Rodolphus, you go outside and take care that we're not interrupted. Bella and Lucius, you look after our guests."

Malfoy and Bellatrix went over to where Hermione and Flitwick were standing with Lestrange and took over from him, Malfoy pointing his wand at Flitwick and Bellatrix hers at Hermione. Voldemort meanwhile was walking around the vault, looking around him and studying the books on the shelves.

"If you told us what you are looking for, my lord, perhaps we could help you," Bellatrix said after a few minutes.

"Don't worry, Bella," Voldemort said distractedly, "you'll find out soon enough." He stopped wandering around and performed a series of spells, murmuring so quietly that Hermione couldn't understand him. A few minutes later a movement at the entrance caught her eye and she saw that Snape had returned alone. Hermione's heart started beating faster. Now all was set. The plan was that Snape would take over guarding Flitwick or Hermione, thus leaving only one real hostage. Dumbledore and the others should enter the vault soon after, and then Moody who was still hidden under the invisibility cloak would overpower whoever was guarding the second hostage while Snape would reveal his true allegiance. By that time, the corridor to the library vaults should be sealed from inside, making it impossible for the Death Eaters who were roaming the castle to come in and help their master.

Snape gave Voldemort only a quick glance and then went over to where Hermione, Flitwick, Bellatrix and Malfoy were standing.

"Is everything going according to plan?" Lucius asked.

Snape nodded. "The others are taking over the castle. There shouldn't be much resistance. Now Bella," he said, turning towards her, "let me relieve you of your charge."

Bellatrix snorted. "Don't worry, you'll get her soon enough. But until that time our lord has put her in my power."

Hermione could see Snape scowl but he didn't say anything further to Bellatrix but turned to Malfoy. "Perhaps Lucius is less loath to let me guard old Filius?"

Flitwick, who didn't know yet that Snape was on their side, looked at him with an expression of hate and contempt, but didn't say anything. Lucius however narrowed his eyes. "Why are you so keen on guarding them?" he said slowly. Hermione's heart started pounding. If Lucius grew suspicious that might ruin everything.

Snape meanwhile seemed unperturbed. "I just wanted to help," he said, shrugged his shoulders and turned his attention to Voldemort who was still casting spells.

Lucius observed Snape critically, but finally turned towards Voldemort as well. Hermione was worried. It would be much harder to overpower two guards than only one. But they didn't have a choice. Keeping her hand close to her pocket, Hermione was waiting to use the mahō ishi if needs be. She shivered, but not because of the damp cold of the vault.

Suddenly Voldemort stopped whatever he had been doing and turned towards Hermione and Flitwick, irritation visible on his inhuman face. "I can't get access," he hissed. "What's going on here?"

At that moment shouting erupted outside and everyone turned towards the door, Bellatrix pressing her wand painfully against Hermione's throat.

Suddenly Dumbledore was standing in the doorway. "Hello Tom. It's been a long time." His voice was pleasant, but his eyes had a steely expression. Before Voldemort had time to do anything Dumbledore started walking towards him. Voldemort immediately fired a succession of spells at him but Dumbledore deflected them with hardly a flicker of his wand until he stopped about five feet away from Voldemort. Behind him McGonagall, Lupin, Sprout, Hagrid, Mrs. Weasley, Tonks, Ginny, Harry, Ron, Neville, Luna and Padma came into the room.

"I'm afraid you're heavily outnumbered," Dumbledore said amiably. "Avery and Lestrange are unconscious and the rest of your minions is up in the castle, unable to help you since we sealed the corridor.

Voldemort stared at him with a stony face. "So there's no hub?" he hissed.

"There might be," Dumbledore said with a great smile, "but certainly not in here."

Voldemort's eyes looked daggers as he stared at Dumbledore and then at Hermione. Finally his glance turned to Harry who looked at him with a calmness that surprised Hermione. "You forget that I still have two of your friends in my power," Voldemort spat, jerking his head towards Hermione and Flitwick. "If you let me go I won't harm them."

"Tom, Tom," Dumbledore said, still smiling, "do you really believe we'll let you go now? Oh no, you see there..."

Something had been nagging at Hermione's mind for the last minutes, and suddenly she realized what it was. Dumbledore had said that Avery and Lestrange were unconscious, but what about Pettigrew? "Watch out," she shouted to her friends, "Pettigrew was standing guard outside."

Bellatrix stabbed her wand at Hermione's throat, making her cry out in pain, while her friends looked around for Pettigrew. Suddenly Ron shouted "There he is!" and Hermione saw the rat next to Harry. But before anyone could cast a spell, Pettigrew had transformed and held his wand pointed at Harry. "Don't move," he said in a rather nervous voice, "or he'll die."

Voldemort laughed out loud and Hermione, who was staring at Harry wide eyed, felt rather sick. Their plan might work for two hostages, but not for three. Her train of thoughts was broken by Dumbledore who said sharply, "you won't hurt Harry, Peter. You know very well that you owe him a life debt."

Pettigrew's face twitched and his hands shook, but he held his wand pointed at Harry. Hermione's head was spinning. Somehow they had to break this stalemate or they wouldn't be able to start with the ritual. Even worse, Harry might be killed. She still had the mahō ishi and it might provide a valuable diversion, but she just didn't know what Moody's and Snape's plans were. But since she had no chance to find out, she'd just have to be ready when Dumbledore gave the sign and try her luck. Slowly, so that Bellatrix wouldn't notice, she put her right hand in her pocket.

Voldemort smirked triumphantly. "Dumbledore, you won't endanger your precious Potter, will you?"

Bellatrix chuckled behind Hermione. Dumbledore however seemed utterly unmoved. "This changes nothing," he said calmly. Other then Hermione he seemed really certain that Pettigrew wouldn't harm Harry. "There is something very important we have to do tonight."

These words were the cue for Moody. Hermione tensed, her fingers found the handkerchief with the mahō ishi in it, closed around it, and then a lot of things happened very fast and at the same time. She jerked the stone out of her pocket, yelled "Catch!" and thrust it towards Lucius. At the same time someone whom Hermione identified as Moody yelled a spell and Bellatrix sank down beside her. Baffled by Hermione's shout and the object she had thrown at him, Malfoy instinctively reached out to catch the mahō ishi which by then had lost its wrapping. When his hand touched it it exploded into thousands of glittering, razorsharp shards. Lucius yelled and let go of his wand and of Flitwick who immediately grabbed Malfoy's wand and joined the fray. Meanwhile Pettigrew had cast a spell at Harry, but although he opened his mouth no words came out and he stared at Harry with wide and fearful eyes. Snape quickly cast a spell at him. Suddenly Dumbledore's voice reverberated through the vault, but they were all too busy to give it much notice. When Malfoy tried to get up, his vision impaired by blood which ran down his face from various small wounds, he found himself face to face with Snape who was pointing his wand at him. Lucius stared at him with wide eyes, utter disbelieve in them while Snape cast a spell and Malfoy crumbled to the floor. All of the Death Eaters were unconscious now and Moody cast spells to bind them. Silence descended.

Hermione had let herself fall to the ground to be out of the way of hurling spells. She now got up again, looked around to make sure that everyone was alright and smiled at her friends, feeling immensely relieved. A few books had fallen out of the shelves, struck by spells, but everyone seemed to be unharmed. Hermione's gaze was caught by Dumbledore and Voldemort and her feeling of triumph vanished. Both were standing as if frozen, connected by a small line of brightly shining energy.

"What are you doing?" Voldemort hissed. He raised his arm but it took him ages to move it. It was hard to read his snake-like face, but Hermione thought she saw something like fear in it now. "What are you doing?!"

"Tom, Tom," Dumbledore said, still very calm. "I thought you with your great knowledge would know what this is."

Voldemort's mouth twitched. "You wouldn't do that," he said with forced calmness. "You are not so stupid."

Dumbledore smiled and shook his head. "You see, that's your great weakness, Tom." His smile vanished. "And that's why you will die tonight. And die for good this time. Because unlike you I am not afraid of death."

Voldemort stared at him, his face as harsh as if cut out of stone. Then he tried to move, to struggle against the spell, but he couldn't break it. Suddenly his head jerked towards Snape. "And you, Severus," he snarled, "have you changed sides once again?"

Snape stood very still, looking at Voldemort with a dispassionate face. "I left you many years ago," he said quietly. "And everything I've done since that day I did not for you, but to bring about your fall."

Voldemort laughed with disbelief. "You killed her parents for this? Dumbledore, if that's true you're not better than I am."

"My parents are not dead," Hermione cut in, meeting Voldemort's gaze defiantly.

His snake like eyes narrowed even further. "Your really are a clever girl," he hissed. "And a skilled Occlumens, it seems." He turned back to Snape. "You know, Severus," he said in a voice which was suddenly strangely soothing and coaxing, "I can give you all you want. You know that whatever they have planned will never work. You could be the most powerful wizard after me, you could have anything, including that deceitful mudblood if you still want her. You could even become Minister for Magic if you want to."

Snape shook his head. "You cannot give me what I want," he said with a hint of sadness in his voice. "You never could. And it was the greatest mistake of my life to think that you could."

Voldemort's face contorted with rage and again he struggled against the spell, but couldn't break it. "It's time now, my friends," Dumbledore said. He was still calm, but his voice sounded strained and there were drops of sweat on his high brow. Hermione was worried. The magic he was performing was one of the most complicated and exhausting that existed and they should get going as long as he was able to hold Voldemort.

"Hagrid," Dumbledore said, turning towards him, "you'll guard the corridor and make sure that no one breaks our wards. If they should be able to come through, you know what to do."

Hagrid nodded, but didn't move. His eyes were riveted on Dumbledore and he looked visibly shaken.

"Please, Hagrid, go now," Dumbledore said softly. "You know that it is necessary."

Tears were slowly running down Hagrid's face. "Aye, Dumbledore. I... I will go... good luck." And he left the vault.

Hagrid's reaction brought home to Hermione with new force that Dumbledore was about to die. Looking around at her friends' stricken faces she saw the same knowledge there. Mrs. Weasley had tears in her eyes and McGonagall was deathly pale. Hermione gulped, trying to push away that thought and to concentrate on what they were about to do. They had talked it through so often that now everything went as if it were a well-rehearsed choreography. While Dumbledore would hold Voldemort so that he couldn't struggle against the ritual, Snape would pour out the potions over him. Then seven members of the Order would take up position around Voldemort to perform the chants and incantations. Hermione and her friends would each establish a connection to one of them and channel their magical power to them. Harry would wait, saving his strength for the end of the ritual. It would be him who would have to cast the killing curse. It had to be someone with either a strong emotional attachment or a blood relationship to Voldemort, and since Voldemort had used Harry's blood to come back from the dead they hoped that that connection would prove sufficient.

Lupin had brought a great box with all the potions they needed for the ritual and while Snape was looking through it Hermione made to retrieve her wand. They had hidden extra wands in the vault, but luckily Malfoy had put hers in his robes. At least she wouldn't have to take part in the ritual with a strange wand.

When Snape had finished he took the first potion and went towards Voldemort who was eyeing him suspiciously.

"What are you doing, Severus?" he asked in a pressed voice, straining against the power that held him. "What is all this about?"

Snape's face was dispassionate and he ignored Voldemort completely. Instead he removed the stopper from the phial and emptied it over Voldemort's head. Voldemort hissed with anger, but the potion didn't seem to harm him in any way. Snape went back to the box and repeated the procedure with the next potion. Seeing him calmly walking back and forth, emptying altogether seven phials over Voldemort, had a surreal quality to it. Twice Voldemort cringed, as if the potion had hurt him, but when Snape had finished Voldemort didn't seem much harmed and Hermione was worried. She just hoped that the ritual would work.

Now everyone took up their positions for the incantations. Together with Dumbledore, who was still connected to Voldemort by the thin and bright line of pure energy, Snape, McGonagall, Sprout, Mrs. Weasley, Flitwick, Moody and Lupin formed a circle around Voldemort, each of them about seven feet away from him. Behind them, Hermione and her friends took up position, Hermione pairing up with Lupin, Tonks with Moody, Padma with Flitwick, Ginny with her mother, Neville with Sprout, Ron with McGonagall and Luna with Snape. Voldemort struggled fiercely against the spell that held him, and Hermione shot worried glances at Dumbledore who was standing to her left and looked increasingly weary. When Hermione, Luna, Ron, Neville, Ginny, Tonks and Padma had established a connection to their partners, McGonagall, Sprout, Moody, Mrs. Weasley, Flitwick, Lupin and Snape began with the incantations.

Voldemort cried out, writhing but not able to break the bond. Hermione concentrated hard to keep her power flowing to Lupin. The ritual would take about forty minutes and while at the moment she still felt well she knew that at the end they all would be very exhausted. While concentrating on Lupin, she also shot glances to Voldemort and especially to Dumbledore. His face was deathly white now and she could see that his wand-hand was shaking. _I just hope he can keep it up_, she thought anxiously. Her worries grew stronger with every minute the ritual took. She herself felt the drain of her powers and when she looked around she saw that the others looked exhausted as well. But no one wavered. Only Harry was unaffected. He stood next to Ron, a tense and serious expression on his face, staring all the time at Voldemort who was silently fighting against the magic that bound him and the chants they performed on him.

They were about half way through the ritual when Dumbledore suddenly staggered. For a second it seemed as if Voldemort might be able to break free, but Dumbledore recovered immediately and Voldemort cried out with anger. Hermione's pulse was racing and when she looked around she saw the same worries that plagued her in the eyes of her friends. Would Dumbledore be strong enough to make it to the end? A few minutes later he suddenly fell on his knees. The bond that held Voldemort didn't break, but Dumbledore swayed dangerously, his eyes half-closed. He wouldn't be able to hold Voldemort much longer.

Hermione stepped next to Lupin who had just finished an incantation and was looking at Dumbledore worriedly. "Do you think you can finish without me?" she asked.

He shot her a surprised look. "I guess I can, but why are you asking?" Suddenly his eyes grew wide. "You can't do that, Hermione, no!"

But Hermione had already cut off the stream of magical energy she had transferred to him and instead established a connection to Dumbledore. Immediately she felt as if her whole strength was sucked out of her body. Gasping, she nearly fell to the floor before she could steady herself. Dumbledore's head had jerked in her direction. The expression on his weary face was unreadable, but then he suddenly smiled a bit sadly and nodded towards her. Hermione returned his smile. Then she cast a glance across the room and saw shock and worry in her friends' faces. Snape, who had been surprisingly unperturbed all throughout the ritual, was suddenly deathly white, and when she met his gaze his dark eyes bored into her with an intensity that made her shiver. What she had done could mean her death. By establishing a connection with Dumbledore her strength was sucked out to hold Voldemort just as his was, and when all her strength was gone she'd die. She had no illusions about it, but they had to make sure that Voldemort was held until Harry could cast the killing curse.

Suddenly Luna, who was standing opposite to her between Snape and Dumbledore, stepped up to Snape and whispered something in his ear. He nodded, then turned his eyes on Dumbledore again. Luna gave Hermione her dreamy smile, then cut her connection to Snape and, like Hermione, established one to Dumbledore. Hermione felt a great wave of gratitude, sought Luna's eyes, smiled and nodded. With Luna's help their chances of making it to the end were be much better. Perhaps she had just saved Hermione's life.

The minutes dragged on like hours and Hermione felt weaker every second. Her breath came rasping and finally she couldn't keep standing any longer, but had to sit down on the cold stone floor. Dumbledore's face looked as if it was made out of wax. He had closed his eyes and his whole body was shaking, but his wand was still pointed at Voldemort.

Shortly after Hermione, Luna had to sit down as well. _If I look like Luna_, a part of Hermione's brain thought wryly, _I look really frightful_. She felt terribly tired, her eyelids were so heavy that she just wanted to close them, but she didn't dare to because she feared that then she'd fall asleep or become unconscious. She was swaying now, her body shivering and her wand hand shaking frighteningly. Hermione tried to concentrate on what her friends were chanting to know how much longer the ritual would take. It was terribly hard to concentrate, but she thought it couldn't take much longer than about five minutes. Suddenly she caught Snape's gaze again. He was speaking the words of the ritual, but he didn't look at Voldemort or Dumbledore, but stared at her. She tried to smile at him, but it was just too much effort. The world around her was increasingly becoming blurred, but his face and his strangely burning gaze were still solid, and while Hermione fought against unconsciousness she held onto it, staring into his eyes without blinking until her eyes watered.

She hardly noticed that Voldemort had started to scream now, trying a last time to free himself. Snape's eyes never left her face, not even as they stopped chanting and Harry stepped forward. He was nothing more than a blur in Hermione's vision as her last strength was sucked out of her by Voldemort's final attempt to break free. Her sight grew dark as she dimly heard Harry cast _Avada Kedavra_. Her blood was roaring in her ears and she felt weaker and more tired than she ever had in her life. And then suddenly the bond that had connected her to Dumbledore and to Voldemort was severed and she crumbled onto the floor and darkness washed over her.

Someone shook her lightly at the shoulder and unwillingly and very slowly Hermione opened her eyes. Why wouldn't they let her sleep? She was just so tired. When she could discern something she saw Snape, Ron and Harry kneeling beside her and looking worriedly down at her. Realization hit. "Is Voldemort dead?" She asked, her voice rasping.

Harry nodded grimly. "He is. Are you alright?"

"Just very tired."

With Ron's help Hermione propped herself up on her elbows. Only a few feet from her she saw the still form of Voldemort. Close to it lay Dumbledore, who was just as dead as Tom Riddle. And McGonagall was kneeling next to him, holding his hand, tears running down her face.


	28. The Beginning

**The Beginning**

The realisation that Dumbledore was truly dead hit Hermione and made her forget her utter exhaustion. Tears started into her eyes as she stared at his corpse and the mourning McGonagall.

"Listen, Hermione," Snape said, his voice so soft that Ron and Harry threw him surprised glances, "it isn't over yet. There are still Death Eaters up in the castle and we'll have to go and get them. You'll have to stay here until we're sure it's save."

Hermione nodded. She was so exhausted she didn't really care, she just wanted to sleep and forget that Dumbledore was dead. She was too sad and tired even to feel much triumph at Voldemort's death. "How's Luna?" she asked worriedly, trying to get a glimpse of her.

"Very much like you," Harry said, "but she'll be fine." He and Ron looked curiously as Snape got out of his robes and spread them next to Hermione. Then he lifted her from the floor and laid her on his robes, making sure that she was covered with hers. "Try to sleep," he said. "It won't take long."

Hermione nodded. "Good luck," she said, smiling at her friends. "And be careful." Suddenly a thought came into her mind. "When you're finished, could you go to my rooms and look after Crookshanks? Malfoy hurt him and I don't know if he's alright."

The three men nodded and got up. Hermione closed her eyes. She didn't mind lying on the hard floor just as long as she didn't have to do anything. She was so tired she couldn't even really worry about her friends anymore. A few seconds later she was fast asleep.

**...**

When Hermione woke up she found herself in one of the beds in the hospital wing. She still felt tired but the deathly exhaustion had vanished. Looking at her watch she found that it was a quarter to one in the afternoon.

A weight at the foot of the bed made her look down and she saw Crookshanks who had just got up and was now clambering towards her, purring loudly, his tail erect in greeting. Hermione gave a gasp of happiness and drew him towards her, cuddling him forcefully. She was so glad he was still alive, so glad she was still alive.

So it had happened. After all those years the war was finally over. Hermione felt relief, most of all, and terrible sadness because of Dumbledore. Looking around, she saw Luna lying a few beds away from her. She was still fast asleep. Propping herself up, Hermione rang the magical bell which would call Madame Pomfrey. She needed to know if her friends were safe, if everything had gone according to plan.

When Madame Pomfrey came she smiled at Hermione, ignored Crookshanks and made her drink a number of potions to build up her strength before she would answer any questions. "You were lucky," she said, "if Miss Lovegood hadn't joined in as well, you'd be dead now. And even so it was a close call."

"Is everyone alright?" Hermione asked impatiently.

Pomfrey smiled encouragingly. "Yes. They were able to overpower the Death Eaters without anyone getting killed. Remus, Pomona and Miss Weasley were hurt, but not badly." Her face grew serious. "Filius lost an eye to a particular nasty hex, but he's alright."

Hermione gasped at this news but Madame Pomfrey patted her arm reassuringly. "Don't worry, he's taking it very well. And those members of the Order who were responsible for taking care of the Ministry were also successful. It's finally over." She glowed with something like silent satisfaction which was no wonder after years of treating victims of the war.

"Where is everyone?" Hermione went on. Harry and Ron... and Severus."

Pomfrey suddenly looked at her a bit colder. "They're at the Ministry."

Hermione hadn't missed Madame Pomfrey's reaction. She wouldn't be the only one who was hurt by the fact that Hermione had deceived them about her parents' murder. "I'm so sorry," she said in a low voice. "I hated lying to you all, but there was no other way. I'm sorry."

Pomfrey looked at her silently for a few moments, then nodded slowly. "I know. And I'm glad that Severus didn't betray us after all. I had to patch him up often enough to care for him." She hesitated for a second, then pulled something out of her robes. "One of the house-elves brought this not long ago. It's for you. From Dumbledore."

She needn't have said it, Hermione had immediately recognized the handwriting in which the words 'For Hermione' had been written on the envelope. She felt a terrible lump in her throat and suddenly tears ran down her cheeks. She didn't try to hold them back, but looked at the envelope, wondering what it could be. Slowly she opened it.

Hermione,

To find your parents contact my old friend Felix Fortescue at 21 Waverley Crescent, Edinburgh.

All the best,

Albus

Hermione looked up at Pomfrey, her pulse quickening. "It says how to contact my parents," she said. "Can I go?"

The elder woman looked at her doubtfully but then nodded. "If I give you a few more strengthening potions. But you have to promise that you'll only apparate to Edinburgh and straight back again."

Hermione nodded avidly and Pomfrey smiled at her. "Well, then you can go."

About twenty minutes later Hermione, who was still feeling rather shaky, was walking through the empty corridors of Hogwarts and out into the warm summer day. As she stood in front of the great entrance door, looking out over the grounds and feeling the warm wind on her face, she could for the first time really appreciate what had happened. Voldemort was gone, for good. They could live their lives in peace now. Suddenly she laughed out loud. She felt like shouting or singing with joy. The pain at Dumbledore's death was still there, a terrible ache in her heart, but she knew why he had given his life. So that now they could finally start living theirs.

Hermione walked through the grounds smiling and humming. She wished her friends were there but they'd have to wait until she came back from Edinburgh. And Snape... Now they would have enough time to find out where their relationship might go, time without the constant fear that one of them might be murdered any second. When she arrived outside the wards she gave a last, loving look to the dark mass of Hogwarts and then disapparated.

**...**

A bit more than an hour later Hermione apparated again, this time to her favourite apparition place near the lake to which she had also apparated one year ago on the day she had started working at Hogwarts. As at that time, she now took her favourite way back to the castle, along the lake which glittered enticingly in the summer sun.

She was terribly tired but had a broad smile on her face. When she had shown up at his doorstep, Felix Fortescue had already known what had happened. Actually it was hard not to know it. As all those years ago when Voldemort had fallen for the first time, the sky was filled with owls, and wizards and witches were celebrating openly on the streets, ignoring the bewildered stares of the muggles.

As soon as he had heard of Voldemort's fall, Fortescue had made sure that her parents had been given back their memories. When Hermione had come to his house he had quickly established a floo-communication-connection to where they were now living in Canada. It had been a joyous and tearful reunion and Hermione had promised to visit them in a few days. Now she wanted to look if some of her friends were around, and then sleep, preferably for a very long time.

When she had walked for a few minutes, she suddenly saw someone sitting on a bench at the lake. It took her only a few seconds to recognize Snape. Hermione got a bit slower at first but then strode on purposefully. She knew that she had to talk to him eventually and this was as good a time as any.

When she came closer she noticed that something was different. He had shed his usual black robes and wore only a dark shirt with sleeves that went up to his elbows. Quite sensible in this warm summer weather but for Hermione this shedding of his customary 'armour' signalled much more.

"Hello Severus," she said brightly, stopping in front of him.

"Hello Hermione," he replied, greeting her with a small smile. "How are your parents?"

Hermione sat down beside him, scrutinizing his face. He looked tired but calm. "Very well, thanks for asking." She raised an eyebrow. "Are you sitting here by coincidence or were you waiting for me?"

His mouth twitched but he didn't answer, only smiled at her. Suddenly Hermione realized something which had been nagging at the back of her mind ever since she had spotted him. She gasped. "The mark is gone!"

He nodded, a rare open smile transforming his face. "Yes, it is. After the Dark Lord's death it slowly vanished." He held up his arm, turning it and looking at it with an expression of wonder in his eyes, as if he still couldn't believe it. As she had done weeks ago, Hermione reached out her hand and softly touched the now unblemished skin. "I'm so glad for you," she said.

Their eyes locked, but Hermione wanted to hear what had happened first before discussing life-altering issues. "How's Minerva?" she asked.

Snape's face turned grave. "Very sad, as you might expect. She has asked us to meet in Dumbledore's office – which I guess is now hers – at 7 o'clock. And it seems that there will be some kind of celebration afterwards, with bonfire and the like."

He looked not happy about that and Hermione said quietly, "You think it's wrong to celebrate?"

He shook his head. "No, certainly not. It just feels strange, with what happened to Albus…" His mouth twitched in a sad smile. "But as I know Albus it probably was his idea in the first place."

"Probably." Hermione looked at Snape and saw the sadness in his face. "You have to tell me everything," she said to divert him. "I'm so sorry I wasn't there to help you."

Snape shook his head. "You needn't be. You did more than anyone could have asked of you." He paused. "We were lucky that you were willing to sacrifice your life."

Hermione shrugged her shoulders. "I had to do something and I was lucky that Luna was ready to help me. Anyway, what happened after you left the vaults?"

"It was surprisingly easy," Snape told her. "We went up to the castle and I called the Death Eaters. They had a means of communication very similar to the fake Galleons and they came immediately since most of them had noticed that something was happening to their mark. I had taken Remus as a fake-hostage and the others were hidden close-by. When all were gathered, Remus and I suddenly turned on the Death Eaters and the others attacked them as well. They didn't know what had hit them." He smiled grimly. "I guess you heard what happened to Filius? Luckily he was the only one who was badly injured. It was over quickly."

Hermione looked at him, trying to read his calm face, and then asked hesitantly. "Was it hard for you? I mean some of them were your friends..."

Snape didn't look away but a flicker of pain crossed his face. "It was something I knew I had to do for many years," he said slowly. "But that didn't make it any easier." He was silent for a few moments. "I don't care about most of them, they've deserved whatever awaits them now. Still, I've grown up with many of them, I know what they once were like and how they turned into Death Eaters... I'm sorry about Narcissa, she's not all bad. And I'm glad that Draco left them early enough."

"Did you hear something from him?" Hermione asked.

Snape shook his head. "Not yet. I hope I will eventually."

They both looked out on the glittering lake for a few moments before Hermione went on. "And how did it go for the rest of the Order?"

"Nobody was seriously harmed," Snape replied. "Arthur, Bill, Charlie and the aurors made sure that the Dark Lord's minions in the Ministry were not able to escape. As you can imagine the Ministry is in chaos now."

Hermione snorted. "Is that something new?" Suddenly a thought hit her. "What about the press? I'd expect them to be swarming around here, trying to get first-hand reports of Voldemort's death."

Snape's mouth twisted. "I don't doubt they would if they could, but Dumbledore made sure that special anti-reporter-wards were set up as soon as he knew that the Dark Lord was coming."

Hermione laughed out loud. The thought of the likes of Rita Skeeter standing just outside the wards, trying unsuccessfully to cross them was deeply satisfying.

"I'll miss him terribly," she suddenly said.

"So will I," Snape replied.

"I know it was necessary," Hermione went on, "and that he was more than willing to die, but that doesn't help, does it?" Suddenly the heavy sadness was back inside her, dimming the brightness of the day and her joy at their victory. "It's strange, isn't it?" she said. "I mean I'm really glad that it's over now, that Voldemort is gone. But at the same time I'm just very sad. And it feels so strange. All those years, the constant threat and worry, and now it's suddenly over."

Snape gave her a wry smile. "Believe me, I know what you mean."

Hermione held his gaze. "I know, it must be even stranger for you." She hesitated, then said quietly, "I'm sure Sarah would be very proud of you."

His face froze for a second, then relaxed slowly. He looked at her with a curious searching expression in his eyes. "I hope she would."

They were silent again and Hermione looked away from him, out into the Hogwarts grounds. They had talked about all the innocent topics, now it was time to turn to what was much more complicated. "Do you remember when I asked you in Germany what you wanted to do after we have defeated Voldemort?" she asked, turning to face him again.

Snape nodded. "And I told you that I didn't know." He paused. "I still don't know. It is...hard to grow accustomed to life without him." He was silent for a few moments, then went on hesitantly. "For over twenty years my life was in some way dominated by him. And that also meant that I always knew what I wanted to do with it. And now he's gone, and I haven't figured it out yet..."

He looked at her intently and Hermione felt suddenly very self-conscious, wondering if she figured in his thoughts about the future in any way. "I guess now you have enough time to find it out," she said, smiling. "You should take a long holiday."

His mouth twitched. "I guess I should. How about you?"

Hermione shrugged her shoulders. "Good question. I extended my contract with Anistaphala for another year, but seeing as she turns out to be a Death Eater I don't know if the Ministry will stick to it. I wouldn't mind staying, I like the work and Hogwarts, and as you know there are still a lot of books in the vault." She stopped, unsure how to continue. Snape wasn't much help, either, he just looked at her intently and although his face wasn't the dispassionate mask he had worn for so many years, Hermione didn't know how to interpret it. "Listen, Severus," she finally said, "we need to talk."

His mouth twitched. "Ever the Gryffindor," he said in a teasing tone, "bluntly charging in."

"I can't help it," Hermione replied with a defiant smile and then waited if he would say something.

Snape looked away for a few moments but then turned to face her again, his expression serious. "You're right, we need to talk. Hermione, you know that..."

Voices from further down the lake's shore suddenly drifted towards them and made him stop. When Hermione turned around she saw Harry, Ron and Ginny coming in their direction. Turning back to Snape she gave him an apologetic smile. "I guess we'll have to talk later?"

Snape's face had changed to not quite the cold mask but a rather bland expression. "I guess we will. I'll see you at seven."

As soon as her friends came close enough to discern Snape their behaviour changed subtly, becoming more guarded and inhibited. Hermione wondered if it was because of Snape or because they were angry with her. Probably a mixture of both. She sighed internally. She wasn't looking forward to this conversation.

When they were only a few feet away, Snape got up and gave a curt nod in her friends' direction. "I'll see you later," he said dispassionately and went away.

Hermione stood up, too, and faced her friends. They were standing a few feet from her without saying a word. Hermione tried to catch their eyes but they avoided meeting her gaze. Her heart sank. "Listen," she said to break the uncomfortable silence, "I am terribly sorry. I know that's no excuse but I had to do it. I hated lying to you, I really felt terrible all the time. Can...can you forgive me?"

She looked at them with trepidation. Ron was frowning, Ginny's face was neutral and Harry's unreadable. None of them spoke. Hermione felt her heart sink. "Please, say something," she said quietly.

Harry cleared his throat. "Listen, we know you had to do it... Dumbledore explained everything to us. And we understand. It's just..." he shrugged his shoulders and looked at Ginny.

"It's just that we had hoped you'd trust us," Ginny picked up. She gave Hermione a tentative smile. "When we think logically we know that there was no other way. But when Dumbledore informed us yesterday before we went down into the vault it still...hurt. I'm sorry, but I guess it'll take some time until we get over it."

Hermione nodded slowly, feeling very sad. She knew that her friends wouldn't be able to just forget what had happened, but to see them angry with her hurt terribly. "Alright," she said in a wobbly voice, "I guess that's the best I could hope for."

Suddenly Harry shook his head. "What are we doing here?" he asked, looking at Ron and Ginny. "We shouldn't be angry; we should be happy and grateful that we're all alive." He turned to Hermione and smiled at her. "I'm so glad it's over," he said softly. "And that you all are alright." And he took a step forward and hugged her tightly.

Hermione felt a great weight lift from her heart. After a few moments Ginny and finally even Ron joined Harry, all hugging Hermione and each other. Suddenly Hermione started laughing, for no apparent reason but just because she was so glad she and her friends were still alive. And the others joined in.

"Have you been to see your parents?" Ron finally asked when they had calmed down and separated again.

Hermione looked at him searchingly. He seemed to be the one most hurt by her deception but she hoped that he would forgive her eventually. "Yes," she replied. "It was great to see them again."

"No wonder you didn't want us to hurt Snape," Ron snorted. "We could hardly believe Dumbledore when he told us that he was on our side after all."

"It must have been hard for him," Harry said. "And for you." He gave her a shy look. "I'm so glad it's over."

Hermione nodded emphatically. "And so am I. Now tell me exactly what happened."

Ginny, Harry and Ron told her all that had happened ever since her opening the corridors to the library vaults had informed Dumbledore that Voldemort was about to appear. After an hour Ron and Harry, who had to check up on some Ministry business before they could join the evening's celebration, took their leave and left Hermione with Ginny.

"I'm glad you've forgiven me," Hermione said softly after they had sat in silence for a few moments.

Ginny shrugged her shoulders. "I was angry. And disappointed. But what happened yesterday was just greater than such egoistic feelings. And Dumbledore made very clear that it wasn't your fault." She smiled sadly. "It's terrible he's gone."

"It is," Hermione said. "Poor McGonagall."

Ginny nodded. Suddenly she gave Hermione a shrewd look. "Speaking about that – is there something going on between you and Snape?"

Hermione felt her heart skip a beat. She hadn't expected Ginny to notice anything but she obviously had. "What do you mean?" she said, trying to sound surprised.

"Come on," Ginny said, smiling mischievously. "There is something between you, isn't it? I'm not blind, you know."

Hermione sighed. "Alright. But it's nothing definite. We're not together or so."

"But..." Ginny insisted.

"But... I know this sounds strange, and if you'd told me a year ago I would have said you're nuts... but the fact is I like him. A lot."

The smile had left Ginny's face. "You're serious, aren't you?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes." She grimaced. "I know that's hard to understand."

Ginny snorted, shaking her head. "It certainly is. This is Snape we're talking about!" She shuddered slightly and looked at Hermione with a bewildered expression in her eyes. "But you really like him, don't you?"

Hermione felt a lump in her throat. She had known that her friends would have a hard time accepting her affection for Snape but it hurt nevertheless. "Yes, I do. He's a good man."

Ginny scrutinized her face. "I guess he is," she said softly. "And does he... does he have feelings for you?"

Hermione shrugged her shoulders, giving Ginny a wobbly smile. "I think so. But we never really got around to discuss it. Actually we were just about to talk when you showed up."

"I'm sorry," Ginny said, a look of dismay on her face. "Listen, Hermione," she went on, taking Hermione's hands. "I might not be able to understand your choice, but when you tell me you're happy with him then I'm glad for you."

"Thanks," Hermione replied, feeling immensely relieved. "Could you do me a favour and not yet tell Harry and Ron? I first have to sort this out with myself and Severus before I break it to them."

Ginny shuddered. "Sure. I'm afraid they won't be happy." The corners of her mouth twitched. "Great Merlin, they'll be so shocked. I can just picture Ron's face…" she giggled and Hermione joined in. Ginny might not be overjoyed but she accepted Hermione's choice and it felt good to have finally told her.

They went back to the castle not long after and Hermione, who was rather tired, lay down a bit before preparing for the meeting in Dumbledore's office and the celebration afterwards. On an impulse she put on the dark blue dress she had worn at Stella's wedding, hoping that it'd spark some positive memories with Snape.

When Hermione entered what until the day before had been Dumbledore's office she glanced around searchingly, looking for a new picture. And there it was, surrounded by all her friends, including Flitwick who sported an eye patch and looked like a rather small pirate. It felt indescribably strange to see the painted Dumbledore beaming at her but Hermione was also overjoyed to know that he wasn't all gone.

"Albus," she said hesitantly. "How are you…hm…feeling?"

He chuckled. "Rather tired, I have to say. How are your parents?"

"Fine, thanks a lot."

Suddenly the painted Dumbledore cast a serious look around at the other bystanders and said, "now, I want to remind you that it wasn't Hermione's idea to deceive you. Please don't hold it against her."

Many faces around her suddenly wore a distanced and closed expression, including Lupin's, and Hermione felt rather unhappy. But after a few seconds Lupin nodded and smiled at her. "Albus is right," he said. "We didn't like to be deceived but we know it was necessary. And I guess we should just be glad that everything is over now and we're still alive."

Hermione gave him a relieved smile. It would take some time until they would really have forgiven her but she was sure that they eventually would.

"And it's of course the same with Severus." Dumbledore went on. Hermione shot a glance at Snape who was standing in his customary corner. He had put on his dark robes again and was looking at his colleagues in the distanced way he had. It was as if the man who had talked to her that afternoon had vanished. _He's still holding everyone away_, Hermione thought sadly. _I wonder if that will ever change_. She tried to catch his gaze but when he finally looked at her he only gave her a curt nod, his face dispassionate.

McGonagall now started to speak and Hermione turned to listen to her. She looked older and her face was grey with sadness and fatigue, but composed. "As you all know, we'll have a little celebration with the Order tonight – an explicit wish of Albus. We'll have a bonfire at the shores of the lake. Tomorrow morning at 11 there will be a memorial service for Albus. And I'm afraid that will be when our splendid isolation will have to be lifted." She grimaced. "There doubtless will be many reporters around. After that it's up to you how you want to spend your holidays."

They discussed the memorial service for a little longer until McGonagall told them to go outside and join the other members of the Order for the celebration. Hermione noticed that McGonagall was staying behind, deep in conversation with Dumbledore's portrait.

On their way outside Hermione was looking for Snape but somehow he had vanished. She couldn't help feeling irritated. She had hoped that with Voldemort's death and his vindication Snape would be at least a bit more sociable, but it didn't seem like it. She hoped that it was just a question of time, after all it wasn't easy to overcome behaviour that had served him well for so many years. Shrugging inwardly she joined Harry, Ginny, Ron, Luna, Neville and Padma. Luna looked rather tired as well. When Hermione thanked her profusely she only shook her head lightly. "It was necessary," she said in her dreamy voice. "I am glad I could help."

It was a strange victory celebration. There were a few bursts of exhilaration as they stood around the great bonfire, but mostly their joy was muted by the memory of Dumbledore and all those other people who over the years had lost their lives to Voldemort. The atmosphere was one of bitter-sweet joy and sadness suffused with gratefulness that the war was over and they were still alive.

After a while Hermione left her friends and walked around to talk to all the members of the Order she knew well and to apologize for her deception. They were forgiving, if a little reserved. McGonagall had come down as well and Hermione joined her, feeling strangely shy what to say to her.

"I'm so sorry," she finally said softly.

McGonagall's face was composed and only her bright eyes betrayed her. "Thank you," she said in a low tone. Suddenly a small smile tucked at her lips. "I'm glad I wasn't wrong about Severus after all." She shot Hermione a questioning look. "Perhaps I was not wrong about something else as well?"

Hermione was glad that the dusk hid the blush which had risen on her face. "I don't know, really," she said, shrugging her shoulders. "I thought that you were right, that he has feelings for me. But now it seems that he's avoiding me and I don't know what to make of that."

McGonagall looked at her, pondering. "Don't give up," she said. "Severus has to rethink his life from scratch now, and I guess he just doesn't know how you fit in." She smiled. "He might be brave enough to face and deceive Voldemort, but I don't know if he's brave enough to face his feelings as well. Just give him time." Suddenly she looked very sad. "If there's a chance of happiness for you, don't miss it."

She turned away and looked out into the night. Hermione's heart ached with pain for the elder woman and on an impulse Hermione took her hand and squeezed it. "I will do my best," she said.

McGonagall just nodded, silent tears running down her face, and Hermione left her to her sorrow. She returned to her friends and they started talking about their plans for the summer. Hermione was evasive, not knowing yet what she would do and if Snape would figure in her plans in any way. Suddenly she had the feeling that someone was watching her and when she turned she saw Snape looking at her from the other side of the bonfire. In his black robes he looked rather forbidding in the flickering light of the fire.

Hermione excused herself, ignoring Ginny's knowing smile, and went to him.

"So you decided to come?" she asked in a teasing tone.

He snorted. "It was Albus' wish. I can't ignore that."

"I'm glad you are here," she said quietly, looking at him expectantly.

His face was hard to read in the flickering light of the fire, but just like in Dumbledore's office it seemed strangely closed. _Whatever has happened since the afternoon?_ Hermione wondered. _Why is he drawing back like that?_

He looked at her in silence for a few moments. "This dress suits you," he suddenly said.

She smiled at him but he didn't meet her eyes. "Thank you. It's the one I wore at Stella's wedding."

"I noticed." His voice was noncommittal and he just stared into the fire.

"Severus," Hermione said softly, reaching out to take his hand. "Is everything alright?"

"Of course," he said levelly, snatching his hand away. "Shouldn't you be with your friends? I have to talk to Minerva. I'll see you." And he turned around and stalked off into the darkness.

Hermione stood there thunderstruck. This was definitely not going the way she had imagined it would. Suddenly she became conscious of the curious looks that her friends were giving her. Holding back her sadness and worry, she put on a rather forced smile and went back to them.

Snape didn't return to the bonfire. After nearly an hour had passed, Hermione decided that she had to find him and talk to him. Whatever his feelings were, she wanted to know. She went back into the castle and checked the places where she thought he might be but without finding him. Finally there was only one possibility left and Hermione took the way she had gone the day before with Flitwick and two Death Eaters, the way down to the library vaults.

She found him standing close to the spots where Dumbledore and Voldemort had died, his head bowed, lost in thoughts.

"Hello Severus," she said softly, standing in the doorway.

His head jerked up. For a second his dispassionate mask wasn't into place yet and Hermione saw deep sadness. He might even have been crying. But when he now looked at her his face was calm again.

"What are you doing here?" he asked in a flat voice. "Shouldn't you be outside with your friends?"

Hermione left the doorway and went to him, shivered slightly in the light summer dress and thin jacket she was wearing. The books which had fallen out of the shelves in the course of the fight had been put into place again and nothing was left to remind of what had happened the night before. _You would have thought that the spot where Voldemort died would be black, or somehow marked_, she thought. But it wasn't. The vault looked as if nothing had happened.

"I was looking for you," she said when she stopped in front of him. "And I might ask you the same question. What are you doing here?"

He didn't meet her eyes but looked over her left shoulder to the spot where Dumbledore had stood the night before. "I will miss him," he said. His face stayed impassive but his voice was full of sadness.

"I know," Hermione said softly. Suddenly she was overcome by a wave of emotions for the man in front of her. Helpless affection, worry and the need to touch him, to reach out to him and free him from his self-sought isolation. She took a step forward, not exactly knowing what she would do, but wanting to somehow show him how much she cared for him. Snape however took a step backwards, clearly not wanting her to come any closer.

Hermione stopped. "What's the matter, Severus," she asked in a pressed voice. "Why are you suddenly acting so different to this afternoon?"

He looked at her, his face very tense. "I had time to think," he said slowly. "About what has happened…to us."

Looking at his hard expression, Hermione felt her heart sink. "And?" she asked quietly.

His dark eyes which were strangely wide and bright in his pale face were holding hers. "These were extraordinary circumstances," he said. "It was my fault, of course. I was under considerable emotional pressure. And so were you. I am sorry."

She stared at him, her mind reeling. "Are you saying you are sorry for what happened between us?" she asked, shaking her head in bewilderment.

Snape looked over her shoulder again. "Yes, I am," he said quietly.

Hermione felt as if she were in a bad dream. "But that's ridiculous," she said. "Severus, look at me." He met her eyes but his face was guarded and withdrawn. "I don't know why you're doing this," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "But you can't deny that there was…some kind of connection between us…some affection…" her voice trailed off. "I'm not sorry for what has happened," she said, nearly whispering.

For a moment his mask slipped. "Hermione, be reasonable," he said quietly.

She stared at him, at his tall and dark figure, so tense and collected. Suddenly a thought hit her and gave her hope again. "You're not saying this because you want to drive me away for some twisted noble reason?" she asked, scrutinizing his expression. It was only there for a second, but Hermione thought she had seen a flicker of doubt and guilt. She was not sure, but she had to take chances now.

Snape didn't answer her question but kept looking away from her. "Please, go now," he said in a flat voice. "There is nothing more to say."

But Hermione knew that now was the time to do what her intuition told her. And if she was wrong, if he really didn't have any feelings for her, at least she would have tried. She took a step forward, getting closer to him.

Snape furrowed his brow in irritation. "What are you doing?" he snarled. "I'd appreciate if you left me alone now." And he took a step backward.

Hermione shook her head. "There is something I wanted to do for a long time," she said, giving him a small smile. "Probably longer than I ever admitted to myself." She took another step forward and when he went backwards once again he found that he couldn't because he had arrived at one of the bookshelves.

"This is ridiculous," he hissed, his dark eyes burning into hers. "Why won't you leave me?"

Hermione shook her head again. "You've been alone long enough," she said softly. She suddenly felt very strange, almost frightened as she stepped even closer. The anger left his eyes and he looked at her in wonder as she reached out with her right hand, put it behind his head and drew him towards her. Their lips met and she kissed him deeply. After a few seconds he responded fiercely, wrapping his left arm around her and holding her close, running his right hand through her open hair. The fear that had held her ever since he had started acting so strangely disappeared and instead Hermione felt only utter happiness.

Suddenly he pulled back. "You shouldn't be doing this," he said, his voice hoarse. The cold mask he had worn was gone and he looked bewildered and troubled.

"And why not?" she asked, stroking the side of his face with her fingers.

Snape drew in his breath. "Be reasonable, Hermione," he said in a pressed voice. "What do you want with me? You could have everyone, you're young, and intelligent, and beautiful. And I am..." he hesitated and pain was visible on his face. "I am tainted," he said quietly. "I've done terrible things. I'm not so...so loving, and innocent and pure as you are... There are dark parts in my past and in my character, aspects of me I'm ashamed of or even afraid. I'm not an easy man to be around."

She looked at him very seriously. "I know," she said simply. "I'm aware of all of this. But it doesn't change what I'm feeling for you." And she kissed him again, tenderly at first and then passionately to show him how much she wanted him.

But after a few moments he pulled back once more. "I am much older than you," he said roughly.

"Very true," she replied with a smile and kissed him again.

This time he didn't break the kiss for several minutes, but break it he eventually did. "But your friends hate me," he said quietly. He paused, then went on. "I saw how they looked at me this afternoon, when they spotted you with me."

Hermione felt a painful stab. So that was probably what had made him rethink their relationship. "I'm afraid they won't be…happy," she said and Snape snorted. "But they'll learn to accept it, eventually." She held his gaze and took his hand and when he finally nodded, still rather unconvinced, she kissed him very softly and tenderly.

When that kiss had ended, however, Snape was still looking at her with disbelief in his eyes. "But why do you want me?" he asked quietly.

She gave him a mischievous smile. "Because you're such a good kisser."

He laughed out loud and Hermione joined in, happy to see him laugh like that. When he had fallen silent again she looked at him earnestly. "Listen, Severus. I have thought about this for a long time – believe me, I had time enough. And I have made up my mind. But if you tell me that you do not have any feelings for me then I can accept that."

She looked at him, tense with fear of what he might say. He raised his hand and brushed a lock of hair away from her face. "You know that I love you," he said simply, holding her gaze. "Even if it took me some time to admit it." He was quiet for a while, tracing the lines of her face with his fingers. Finally he went on hesitantly. "I eventually had to admit to myself that I liked your company. That I liked you. But then for a long time I couldn't believe that you could have any feelings for me. And when it seemed that you did I was…happy. You were the best thing that had happened to me for very many years. You…you gave me hope that there might be a life after the war for me." He nearly whispered now. "And I can't believe that I'm lucky enough not to have driven you away."

Hermione snorted. "Not because you didn't attempt to do so." Tears of joy had come into her eyes at his words and now she buried her face at his shoulder. "I'm so happy," she said, holding him close. "So happy."

"So am I," he whispered in her hair.

When she pulled away after a few minutes he suddenly gave her a worried look. "You must be cold. I shouldn't have kept you down here, I'm sorry I was so inconsiderate."

Hermione shook her head. "Don't worry, I'm fine." Holding his gaze and smiling at him she slowly made to unbutton his robes. "You on the other hand must be quite warm. You won't need your robes in the summer," she said mischievously, running her fingers over the cloth of his thin shirt, feeling his warm body beneath it.

He drew in his breath, then kissed her passionately, his fingers caressing her bare back and shoulders beneath her jacket. Hermione felt an enjoyable tingling sensation. _This is going to be so good_, she thought with a pleasant shiver. _So good_. But then she pulled away again. "Let's go up to the bonfire," she said.

Snape looked at her for a few moments, then nodded. "Will you visit me afterwards?" he asked with a small smile, hope and uncertainty in his eyes.

Hermione's heartbeat quickened and she gave him a short kiss. "I definitely will," she whispered in his ear.

He chuckled, then said "Let's go," and they left the vault together.

* * *

_Well, that's it! Thanks to all of you who have stuck to this story until the end and special thanks to those who have left a review._

_It was quite a lot of w__ork but I enjoyed it immensely._

_Even though the story is now finished I am of course glad for every comment you have._

_And I'm curious: If you happen to also have read my second story, "If the choice were mine to make", which one did you prefer? And why?_


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